[RWBY] RWBY Shorts

[AndrewJTalon]

Pyrrha had managed a rare weekend off from interviews and commercials, and she intended to make every hour of it count.

Jaune had to train with his father. Everyone else was busy. And he had trusted her with Mia.

That morning, Jaune, Nora, and Ren left early. And just before he left, he turned and hugged her tightly.

"You're going to do fine, Pyrrha..."

Pyrrha stood in the doorway and made a tiny involuntary squeak as the door closed. She giggled softly. Then she turned back toward the bunk where Mia still slept, oblivious, clutching her little plush rabbit.

A little later, two cat ears twitched. Mia sat up, blinking.

"Morning, Pyrrha!"

"Good morning, little one!" Pyrrha sat on the edge of the bed and gently patted her head. This part, at least, felt easy.

Mia looked around. "Where's Papa?"

"Jaune is off training with Grandfather. I'm here to take care of you in the meantime."

Mia beamed. "Okay! Can I have chocolate cake for breakfast?"

Pyrrha hesitated. "That… doesn't sound very healthy. You need protein so you can grow. Perhaps bacon and eggs would be a better choice?"

Bacon and eggs sounds easy enough, she told herself. Orange juice for vitamins. I've got this. I'm sure of it.

Mia tilted her head. "But didn't Papa say you're not allowed to cook anymore?"

Pyrrha froze. "Ummm…"

Jaune would not want her to have chocolate cake for breakfast. He also would not want the kitchen on fire again.

Inspiration struck.

"Maybe we should go see what they have in the cafeteria!" she said, brightening. "That way you can have a balanced meal, and I can keep my promise to Jaune."

"Yay!"

Pyrrha offered her hand. Mia took it happily, Mister Bunny tucked under her other arm, still in her pajamas.

Pyrrha paused at the door. "Do you need to get dressed before leaving the dorms?"

"Um… noooo…"

"Are you suuuure?"

Mia pouted. "Hmph."

Pyrrha tried very hard not to squee. "How about this? You get dressed, but you can bring Mister Bunny with you to breakfast."

Mia's face lit up. "Okay!"

---

In the cafeteria, Pyrrha built a careful plate: eggs, bacon, a pancake, and orange juice. Mia immediately pointed.

"Yayyyy! Can I have strawberries?"

Pyrrha debated, then added four.

"Can I have more strawberries?" Mia pleaded.

Pyrrha put on her best stern-but-fair voice. "If you finish what's already on the plate, I will let you have more strawberries."

"Yay!"

Mia ate fairly neatly. When she finished, Pyrrha wiped her face with a napkin. Mia made a muffled little mmmngh of protest that only made Pyrrha giggle.

"You did a good job finishing your meal. So, as promised, you can have two more strawberries."

Mia demolished them. "Om… nom nom…!"

Pyrrha smiled—the real one, not the camera one. "What should we do today, Mia?"

Mia thought hard. "Hmmm… can you take me flying?"

That was what she called riding on someone's shoulders when they could leap.

Pyrrha giggled. "Of course, sweetie. Let's just go back to the dorms and brush our teeth first. Then I'll take you flying all around campus."

"YAY!"

They toddled back hand in hand, Mister Bunny swinging from Mia's other fist.

"I really like flying!" Mia said. "I wanna fly like you guys! It's so cool! Can I fly and run along walls like Arachnoman?"

"With enough training and effort, anyone can fly like us," Pyrrha said. "Maybe someday you will too. And maybe you'll be able to walk on walls, or maybe you'll be able to do something even more amazing. But whatever you choose to do, and whoever you choose to be…" She leaned down and scratched gently between Mia's ears. "…you will be loved."

Mia giggled. "Aw…!"

Mia set Mister Bunny on her little bed with great ceremony.

"Watch. Don't let anyone in, Mister Bunny."

Pyrrha checked the lock with theatrical seriousness, then brushed her teeth beside her. They spat at the same time and grinned at each other in the mirror.

"Are you ready to go flying now, little one?"

"YEAH!"

---

Mia climbed onto Pyrrha's shoulders and pulled on the little goggles Jaune had bought her. They, of course, made her even more adorable and Pyrrha could barely contain her squee.

"Yayyyy!"

Pyrrha held her legs carefully, paying close attention to her weight as they stepped outside.

"Fly! Fly! Fly!"

Among the columns at Beacon's entrance, Pyrrha broke into a run. Each stride carried her a little longer, a little higher, letting Mia get used to the motion.

"HWAH! HAHAHA! UWAHH! AHAHA!"

Pyrrha leapt around campus with Mia firmly secured. The little girl's happy screams sounded like music. It was also excellent exercise. She was so absorbed that she never noticed another student lifting a Scroll to take a photo.

"WHEEEEEEEEEEE!"

Pyrrha laughed too and leaped, sprinted and vaulted all over the campus. However, all good things ended. When Pyrrha's Aura dropped to around a quarter, she slowed near one of the fountains and slid Mia down into her arms.

"Alright, Mia. I'm getting tired, and I need to rest. We can do more things in fifteen minutes."

"Awwwww!" Mia pouted. "Fifteen minutes is… is forever!"

Pyrrha scratched between her ears. "It will pass by quickly. We can even play a game to pass the time. Like I Spy."

Mia giggled… then, unexpectedly, grew thoughtful.

"So… Papa said he's not taking anyone to the dance. You're all just going together, right?"

Pyrrha sighed. "It makes sense. There are so many of us who want to be a part of his life, and it would be unfair to the others just to take one of us. But more than that, I think…"

Mia tossed a pebble into the fountain. "Think what?"

"…I think he still misses your mother too much to risk falling in love again."

Mia went very still. "…Auntie Pyrrha… don't be mad. Don't tell Papa…"

Pyrrha gathered her up at once, stroking her hair. "Don't tell Papa what?"

Mia sniffled. "I… I watched Mama's last video. I snuck it out of Papa's drawer and watched it…"

Pyrrha kept stroking her head. "It's alright, little one. There are things that your mother wanted you to hear. And I won't tell. It will be our little secret." She booped Mia's nose.

Mia's eyes filled. "Papa… he was just so sad after watching it. He said I could see it when I was older and… and…"

Pyrrha wiped her tears.

"…I want Papa to be happy," Mia whispered. "I want a mama. But I love Mama. I-I just… don't know her. Am I bad?"

"Oh, sweetie. You aren't bad. And your mother wanted the same thing, too."

Mia sniffled again. "…I just… really want a mama. To be like other kids. I dreamed I met her. She was super nice. She told me she loved me and to be a good girl…"

Pyrrha kissed her forehead. "We all love you, Mia. And…" Her voice dropped to a whisper. "…I want to be your mother."

Mia's ears twitched. "Huh?"

Pyrrha went scarlet. She'd forgotten those ears weren't just for show. "You didn't hear that, did you?"

"Heard what?"

"What I said?"

"What did you say?"

"…About what I want?"

"Oh…" Mia smiled. "I'd like you to be my mama too. But… I also would like more mamas. Because I don't want to lose any of you! So… I don't mind if you're all my mamas! So I can get more snacks and hugs and toys!"

Pyrrha made a high, helpless squeak, then giggled through her blush. "If your father doesn't make his choice soon, we might just choose for him, and that's… that's the only choice I can see us agreeing on."

"YAY! I will have all the mamas! And maybe Ren or Sun as another papa? And then… ALL THE ICE CREAM!"

Pyrrha laughed outright. "I don't know if Jaune wants any husbands, but it's impossible to say anything for certain. Now that I'm feeling rested, what would you like to do next?"

Mia didn't even hesitate. "Ummm… I wanna fly again!"

"Very well, then. Hop on!"

---

They flew again. After that, Pyrrha brought her back to change—baggy jeans, a loose sweater, and a beanie for herself. Mia put on the pink dress Coco had made, then held up two ribbons.

"Can you put the ribbons in?"

"Of course! How would you like them?"

"I want pigtails! Cause they're neat!"

Pyrrha braided them in, threading the ribbons through, then lifted Mia to the mirror. Mia giggled at herself.

On the airship to Vale, Mia bounced in her seat and talked the whole way, watching the clouds.

"Seems you take to air travel better than your father," Pyrrha said, scratching between her ears.

"Hee… he doesn't like it but I do!"

"So… what can you tell me about your papa? Favorite foods? Books he likes? Clothes he wants to wear?"

Mia thought. "Ummmm… he likes this Tom Sawyer Gunslinger book. He reads it to me and it's fun! And he likes blue clothes, and he likes eggs… ummm… omtent."

"Omelet," Pyrrha translated fondly, and scritched her ears again. "Thank you, Mia. It looks like we'll be landing soon!"

Now if only she could learn how to cook that without setting the kitchen on fire again...

---

At the arcade, Mia dragged her straight to a fighting game.

Pyrrha was terrible at it.

Mia mashed buttons like a tiny professional. Pyrrha got stunlocked. Repeatedly.

"You gotta… dash!"

"How?!"

"Block!"

"That button!"

"No, the other button!"

Pyrrha kept losing. It was still fun. Mia was even cuter when she got mad about it. Neither of them noticed someone filming part of it.

"Dance game! Dance game! …Please?"

"That sounds grand!"

Pyrrha danced. Mia mostly jumped in place, radiant.

Then basketball.

Mia sank one and screamed. "YAY!"

Pyrrha, who had been missing on purpose so Mia wouldn't compare herself, allowed herself a single basket.

"Yay! You got one!"

"Yes, now we're one-to-one! Let's see if you can beat me!"

Mia's eyes narrowed with sudden calculation. "If I get the next two baskets… will you buy me ice cream? With extra sprinkles?"

"Of course!"

"And if I get three… can I have ice cream every meal?"

Pyrrha shook her head gently. "No, sweetie. Ice cream is good for a sometimes treat, but having it all the time wouldn't be healthy. You need to eat different foods so you'll grow big and strong."

Mia pouted. "You just think I can't make the baskets!" She sniffled.

"Sweetie, I believe you can make the baskets. That's why it's so important for me not to agree to let you eat nothing but ice cream. Why don't you ask for a different reward for making three baskets in a row?"

Mia thought. "Hmmm… can you get me a baby elephant? I asked Weiss for one but she said no. Mister Bunny needs a friend."

"I don't think Jaune wants to own an elephant," Pyrrha said, "but there's an elephant sanctuary in Vacuo I've always wanted to visit. We could go over the summer. You and me and Jaune."

"Okay!"

Mia threw three baskets in a row.

Then missed everything after that. It was still extremely suspicious.

"You did it! Good job!" Pyrrha clapped.

Mia giggled, then wilted. "…I'm sorry, Pyrrha. I play this a lot with Ruby and I'm really good and…" She sniffled. "I wanted ice cream for every meal. I didn't do a good job of fooling you. I wanna be smart like Papa and fool people."

Pyrrha knelt to her level. "Your papa didn't fool people for his own sake. He did it so he could help people and keep his promises. And it's okay. I'll still take you to see the elephants in Vacuo."

"And have ice cream all the time. I like elephants!"

"I like elephants too." Pyrrha kissed her forehead.

Mia beamed.

That was when Pyrrha heard the snap of a Scroll camera right behind them.

She looked. Whoever it was had already ducked behind a machine. She could have followed—but that would mean leaving Mia.

Not an option.

"Are you ready for lunch and ice cream, little one?"

"Yay! But tickets! Tickets!" Mia held up their winnings in both fists.

They got in line at the prize counter. The same man slipped in behind them and lifted his Scroll again.

Pyrrha reached back without looking and closed her hand around his wrist.

"Today is all about her," she whispered. "You can respect her privacy, or I will make you regret failing to do so. So back off."

She shot him one brief glare, then turned all her warmth back toward Mia.

"I-I'm just—!"

"Just going somewhere else. Right?"

Mia peered around her. "Who's that, Pyrrha?"

Pyrrha smiled. "Nobody important, darling. Just someone who walked into the wrong line."

At the counter, Mia stood on her toes. "Do we have enough tickets for the elephant?"

They counted together. Three short.

Pyrrha started to comfort her—then she saw those eyes, and she had to try.

She scanned the wall, spotted a Pumpkin Pete's shirt with her own face on it, and cleared her throat.

"Excuse me, sir? My friend's daughter really wanted the stuffed elephant, but we're three tickets short. I don't think you'd have the authority to authorize an exchange of value, so is there any way you could bring a manager over?"

The manager arrived already shaking his head. "I'm afraid we're not allowed to do any exchanges—"

"Before you commit to that," Pyrrha said politely, "I'm going to ask you to look at something. Just… please, don't make a big deal of it."

She showed her Beacon ID.

The manager's eyes went wide. "Ahem. Well… I'm sure… if you signed the Pumpkin Pete's shirt… we could work something out…"

"It's like you read my mind. Do you have a sharpie handy?"

She signed. The manager handed over an elephant nearly as big as Mia. Pyrrha deposited it into her arms.

"Thank you for being understanding."

"YAY!"

"And what do we say to the nice man for being flexible, little one?"

"THANK YOU!"

"That's right. Now, let's go have lunch."

"YAY! Can I have croccy-quettes?"

Pyrrha blinked. "Did you mean croissants?"

"No! Croccy-quettes!"

"…Do you know where we could get croccy-quettes?"

"The Gallian Place!"

Pyrrha hurriedly searched Gallian cuisine on her Scroll.

The manager leaned in and murmured, "She and her dad go to this café across the street. Can't miss it."

"Thank you so much."

"She's a cute kid. And her dad is a good customer."

---

At the café, Pyrrha opened the menu and realized she could not read a single Gallian word on it. She began to sweat.

"Croccy-quettes!" Mia announced. "Made of pork!"

Pyrrha whispered desperately to the waitress, "Please tell me you know what 'croccy-quettes' are…?"

"Croquettes? Yeah, no big deal."

The plate arrived. Mia cheered.

Pyrrha squinted at the rest of the menu. "This might be a stupid question, but… what's a… prophetrolls?"

"Buns with cream and covered in chocolate!" Mia said helpfully.

"That… actually sounds delightful. But not very hearty…"

"Mousse is good! Strawberry or chocolate! Baba au rhum!"

Pyrrha looked faintly panicked. "…You wouldn't happen to know the Gallian for 'protein,' would you?"

"Steak!"

The waitress was again very helpful, and they had a hearty meal.

After, Pyrrha and Mia walked out hand in hand. Mia's eyelids drooped even as she insisted, "I'm fine… not tired…"

Pyrrha laid a hand over her heart. "Then what should we do? I'm so tired…"

Mia huffed. "Hmph. If you're tired, we go home and you sleep. I'll… have fun…"

She was already stumbling.

Pyrrha picked her up, elephant and all, and yawned. "M'kay. I'll carry you to help stay awake."

Mia cuddled in. On the airship home she murmured, half-asleep, "…Mmm… Mama…"

Pyrrha's eyes stung. She kissed the top of her head.

"I love you."

She meant it. Not only her feelings for Jaune. This, too.

Mia purred softly in her sleep.

---

Velvet was waiting at the JNPR door.

"O-Oh… hello, Pyrrha." Her voice was quiet. She smiled at the sleeping girl in Pyrrha's arms.

"Hello. How are you?" Pyrrha opened the door, eager to get Mia down.

"Oh, I'm all right. Coco just asked me to drop off some clothes she made for Mia. Can I come inside?"

Pyrrha nodded. She laid Mia on the couch, set the elephant beside her, and started unpacking accessories. Velvet giggled, then blushed.

"Oh, sorry… Coco included these and… I really wanted to see them on Mia…"

Tiny pink ear mittens.

Pyrrha hesitated. "Well, Mia needs her rest right now. Perhaps I can let you know when she is done napping?"

"Oh, of course… but… could we at least see if her ear mittens fit? I promise I won't wake her. I do this for my little sisters all the time."

Pyrrha did not like how easily that convinced her. "…Fine. But if she wakes up, you're helping me get her back to sleep."

"Promise."

Velvet slipped the mittens on with extreme care. Mia didn't wake. She only suckled her thumb, hugged her elephant, and became somehow even cuter.

Velvet clapped a hand over her mouth. "So cute…!"

"She's always adorable," Pyrrha whispered. "But I think we just made her even cuter."

Velvet lifted her Scroll. "M-May I? She is soooo cute! I want to send them to Jaune!"

Pyrrha paused. "…Text Jaune first, and ask his permission. She's not my daughter yet, so I can't give you permission to photograph her."

Velvet blinked. "…Yet?"

Pyrrha stared at the floor, scarlet. "Um…"

"I-I mean, um… you know… h-he might… like another kind of girl… no offense…" Velvet was bright red now. "C-Cause you are amazing and wonderful… but… you know, um…"

Pyrrha looked at Mia, then back at Velvet. "The heart wants what it wants. And I love Mia as if she were my own. I want to be a part of his family more than anything."

Velvet's ears went pink. "…M-Me too. Oh, that's such a cool thing to say! Ahem… sorry…"

From the doorway came a fierce whisper.

"Tear her down, girl! Fight for your man!"

"But she's so nice!" Velvet hissed back.

"Come on, you're killing me here! Oh. Hey, Pyrrha." Coco stepped in like she owned the place. "Does Mia like the ear mittens I made for her?"

"We don't know yet. She's been asleep. We'll show them to her when she wakes up."

Coco crept closer, looked, and melted. "Ohhhh! She's soooo cute! If she asked me to shoot my gun, I'd hand Garuda over to her in a heartbeat!"

"Don't hand your gun to her!" Velvet whispered.

Pyrrha stroked Mia's cheek with one careful finger.

"We can teach her firearm safety later," she murmured. "Right now, she sleeps."

---

Written with and for [COLOR=rgb(20, 225, 20)]@Hahoalki[/COLOR]

 

[AndrewJTalon]

There was a gathering at the edge of the Emerald Forest.

Not a training exercise. Not a mission. A cluster of signs, cameras, and people who looked far too confident for how close they were standing to the tree line.

Jaune slowed as Team RWBY and JNPR approached. "Oh boy… what's this about?"

A man in a handmade vest stepped forward like he'd been waiting his whole life for this moment. "I am here to prove… I can be immune to the Grimm, and that Hunters are more of a problem than a help!"

Ruby stared at him.

"…That's dumb. You're super dumb."

The activist puffed up. "Oh no I'm not!"

"Oh yes you are!"

"Oh no I'm not!"

"Oh yes you are!"

A few minutes later, somehow, the argument had flipped.

"Oh no you're not!"

"Oh yes I am!"

Jaune pinched the bridge of his nose. Weiss looked like she wanted to scream. Blake had already started recording, more out of morbid curiosity than support.

The activist finally turned toward the trees. "See? Here I go!"

He marched straight toward a Beowolf that had been watching them from the undergrowth.

Jaune lunged. "No! No no no!"

The Beowolf snapped, jaws closing on empty air as Ruby blurred forward, grabbed the man by the collar, and hauled him back so hard his feet left the ground.

The Grimm snarled, then slunk deeper into the trees when Yang cracked her knuckles.

The activist dusted himself off, smiling like he'd just made a friend. "Friendly little guy, huh?"

Ruby's voice cracked. "YOU'RE STUPID!"

Nora leaned on Magnhild, thoughtful. "You know, if he got killed we could sell the footage."

Pyrrha and Jaune turned at the same time. "What?"

Ren did not look up from watching the tree line. "We've done it before."

Nora beamed. "Had to survive somehow!"

Teams RWBY and JNPR stared at them in complete disbelief.

Nora waved a hand. "Hahaha! Kidding! …Maybe!"

The activist, still holding his sign, brightened. "Wait, you have footage? Can I use that for the movement?"

Ruby dragged him farther from the forest.

"No. You're going home. And you're never coming back here. Ever."

Jaune looked at the protest signs, then at the trees, then at Nora.

"You were just kidding about the footage of people dying... Right?"

Nora just smiled.

 

[AndrewJTalon]

The studio had barre mirrors, a polished floor, and a faint smell of wood and old rosin. Weiss, dressed in blue tights, had already queued a gentle piece of music. She turned, suddenly every inch the instructor and none of the heiress.Before her was Mia, wearing her own black tights and a dubious expression.

"All right, Mia. It's time to learn something that will make you more ladylike and elegant."

Mia wrinkled her nose. "But that's boring!"

Weiss smiled warmly.

"It also helps you become a strong Huntress. Like me."

Mia considered that. Huntress won. "…Okay. What is it?"

Weiss's smile turned bright. "Ballet!"

Mia gasped like she'd just been offered a whole bakery of chocolate roller coasters.

"You mean... Like the fairy princesses and swan ladies and stuff?"

"Yes!"

Mia grinned.

"Then let's do it!"

Weiss clapped her hands with a happy smile

"Okay! Today we are fairy princesses visiting a magical garden!"

Mia's eyes went enormous. "YAY!"

They started with warm-ups. Butterfly stretches, soles of the feet pressed together, knees bouncing. Mia threw herself into it with her whole body, ears twitching happily.

"Now," Weiss said. "First position. Put your heels together, toes making a… hm…"

"Pizza slice!" Mia announced.

Weiss laughed, surprised and pleased. "Very good!"

"Now we are going to do some pliés. To pick magical invisible flowers!"

"Okay!"

Up and down. Up and down. Up and down.

Weiss turned to check her form.

Mia was plié-ing with such violent enthusiasm that she overbalanced, wobbled, and marched herself straight into the wall.

"OW!"

Weiss'e eys widened.

"Mia! Slow down! Come back over here—!"

Mia did not slow down. She recovered, determined to gather more invisible flowers, and kept going—right through an open supply closet door.

CRASH.

"AH!" Weiss was across the room in an instant, scooping her up. "Are you okay, Mia?!"

Mia sniffled, rubbing her forehead. "Owwww…"

Weiss held her, checking for bruises, then set her carefully back on her feet. "It's okay. Let's just do more pliés… like we're gathering those invisible flowers. Slowly this time."

Mia nodded, solemn. "Okay…"

They practiced. They trained. They giggled when Mia's invisible bouquet became so large she had to pretend to carry it in both arms. Weiss corrected her posture with light touches and unexpected patience, and Mia, for all her chaos, watched her with shining concentration.

---

Jaune found them like that.

He stopped in the doorway, eyebrow raised, just as Mia spotted him.

"Papa! I'm a fairy I'm a fairy I'm a—AH!"

She danced toward him, tripped over her own pizza-slice feet, and went down flat on her face.

Jaune was kneeling before she even finished hitting the floor. He lifted her into his arms as she burst into tears.

"OWWWWWW!"

"Oh! Sorry, sweetie." Weiss hovered, wringing her hands. "You got a little carried away. You need to rest."

Mia huffed against Jaune's shoulder, already drooping. "Hmph… okay…"

Jaune looked over her head at Weiss, a small smile tugging at his mouth. "Ballet, huh?"

Mia was already nodding off in his arms, one ear mashed against his collar. Weiss folded her hands in front of her, suddenly less instructor and more girl.

"…It was something my mother taught me," she said quietly. "Along with music. Before, well… before she forgot about us. Before she... Well..."

Jaune's expression softened. "Oh. Weiss, I'm sorry—"

"No! No." Weiss shook her head quickly. A small, real smile found its way through. "I'm quite happy to be able to share it with her. I've… been trying to find things I loved as a girl to share with her. I want her to have a happy life. She deserves it."

Jaune stared at her for a long moment, Mia warm and sleeping against his chest.

"…Yes," he said. "Yes, she does."

Weiss's cheeks went pink.

She looked away toward the barre, but she was still smiling.

Inside her thoughts were... Distinctly less lady like.

Take that, Xiao-Long and Nikos!

 

[Quietview27]

After the war Jaune and Weiss are married and live in radian. How does Weiss deal with farm life.

Click to shrink...

"You alright there honey?" Jaune asked his beloved wife.

Looking over, he saw his petite white haired wife panting like never before. It was almost cute if it weren't worrying.

"Doing 'huff huff' fine," she managed, but the sweat pouring down her face said otherwise.

He sighed before walking over and hoisting her onto his shoulder, "Alright, you're taking a break before heat stroke kills you."

"Jaune Arc you put me down this instant! We are supposed to be tilling the field together!"

"Weiss you look like you just fought an army of Goliath's, please just listen to me this once. I can handle the fields, I did spend most of my life doing it after all."

Despite her protests, the shade he left her in trapped her. To be honest he was right, her life was spent in a cold environment, with her expected to be perfect. This life, constant physical work under a hot sun was not something she was used to, and her sweat soaked shirt proved it.

"F-fine," she relented, looking away from him, cheeks burning from heat and embarrassment. His chuckle at her pout didn't help.

"Thank you hon," he kissed her, and despite the sweat she happily returned it, "Now, I gotta get back to it. You just sit and watch how it's done."

'Maybe I'm never going to be good at this lifestyle,' she pondered, watching him walk back to the land, 'Xiao-Long would laugh seeing me this fatigued. From touching soil of all things! I wonder if I should put my good skills on display to help.'

"Phew," she heard Jaune sigh, "Today's a scorcher. No wonder you were melting."

Her eyes widened as he flung his shirt away, allowing her a glorious view of her beloved husbands muscular frame. Sure she'd seen, and felt them many times before, but seeing it glisten from sweat earned from hard work?

'I may never be a good farmer,' she licked her lips, 'but there are some merits to this life I suppose~'

 

[AndrewJTalon]

You know, there are twin gods who might fit the Brothers as Goa'uld.

Shalim and Shahar. They were Canaanite / Ugaritic gods, twins. One of Dark, one of Dawn. They would have been minor Goa'uld who found Remnant, took hosts and used magic that was on the planet (Basically energies that allow you to bend reality). They didn't want to share that power with the System Lords, so they kept it to themselves. They used this magic to toy with the humans on the planet, creating or manipulating the Grimm and studying magic. With the intention of eventually creating a big enough army to rule the galaxy. Unfortunately, things went tits up for them when it came to Salem and Ozpin. They cursed them with immortality in an effort to study it and see if they would become their new hosts.

It didn't go well for them though. Perhaps Shalim tried to possess Salem, but she threw herself into a Grimm pool and she was able to take control. But having a Goa'uld in your head is not good for your mental health. Shalim then possessed Ozpin, but found he couldn't. He died with his body. Ozpin kept reincarnating, almost like the spiritual version of a Goa'uld thanks to magic. In the end, the great war by Salem against the gods was to try and seize the Stargate. It ended in massive destruction and the shattering of the moon. The Stargate was lost, buried.

So, Shalim died. Salem is fused with Shahar and fighting her, driving her mad. Eventually she will turn everything on Remnant into Grimm or her warriors, and she wants the Stargate for it.

It is possible that there were other Goa'uld on Remnant. A few who were servants or retainers or Shalim and Shahar. Some kept in stasis for trying to overthrow the Brothers.

So at some point, someone might find one of these jars... And end up with a Snake in their head. Or they might stumble across the Stargate.

 

[Quietview27]

-Jaune's got a pet, of sorts. A creature that imprinted on him after hatching. It's an unusual beast but one that's fiercely protective of him... And can breathe atomic fire. Yes, it's Godzilla.

Click to shrink...

The fight with Cordovin had gone sideways, especially as the Leviathan emerged from the ocean at the sounds of their battle, and Jaune was growing worried at their chances.

"Damn it there's gotta be something we can try," he began thinking before his eyes widened, "that's it!"

"Jaune get back!" Weiss yelled seeing him rush to the cliff edge.

Jaune ignored her, stopped at the edge, then took a breath, "BUDDDDDDYYYYYY!"

His yell prompted confusion from everyone, before the ocean began shaking again.

"Oh don't tell me it's another Leviathan," Nora groaned.

But Jaune smiled as he saw familiar shapes rising from the water, "Kinda, but this one's with me."

To everyone's surprise, a titanic sized reptilian beast burst from the ocean, grabbing the Leviathan's head, and slammed it into the ocean. But then the beast started glowing blue, before unleashing a beam of pure energy from its mouth upon the Grimm. Needless to say it was dead in a matter of moments. Then the beast turned to them, growling as it approached Jaune.

"Stay away from him!" Ruby yelled, struggling to stand. The beast seemed to snort in amusement as it continued, before letting out a loud roar right at the blond.

Said blond let out his own roar, before a goofy smile formed on his face, "Buddy! Man how long has it been? Look how big you've gotten!"

The others could only watch in confused shock as the skyscraper sized beast began nuzzling against the blond who started scratching its nose affectionately.

"....and I believed Nora attracted weirdness," Ren muttered.

"Oh! Oh! Can I pet him to Jaune-Jaune?!" Nora however wanted to see what the beast felt like, hopping in place excitedly.

 

[AndrewJTalon]

The Link — Stillhaven (working name)

A planned Valean community, maybe a few hours from the city by Bullhead, sold as a "free trial of next-generation civic health." Every citizen receives a neural link tied to a local CCT node. Marketing language: Feel safely. Live openly. Be of one mind.

The stated science: Negative emotions is treated as a public-health emission, like smoke. The Link detects rising cortisol/Aura turbulence and damps the peak before it leaves the skull as a Grimm-lure. People still feel things. They just don't peak.

Daily life looks gentle. Wide streets, soft lighting, no sirens. Arguments end early because both parties feel the heat get sanded off. Funerals are short and strangely dry-eyed. Children laugh, but the laugh has a ceiling.

What the Link actually does

• Clips spikes: panic, fury, grief, jealousy, ecstasy — anything high-amplitude.
• Leaves a warm baseline: mild contentment, mild concern, mild affection.
• Logs everything to the node. "For calibration."
• Can push as well as pull. Officially unused. Unofficially, the town charter allows "emergency affect management" during Grimm alerts: dump a wave of calm, or, in one classified protocol, a wave of focused dread aimed away from the residential grid to bait Grimm into a killbox. Or all the emotion into one person as a sacrifice to the Grimm.

That last protocol is the loaded gun in the drawer. Because whoever controls the Link controls the entire town.

The downsides?

• Rebound. Take the Link off and six months of unspent feeling arrives in an hour. People who leave Stillhaven sometimes die of it — heart, stroke, or they just scream until they go insane.
• Semblance starvation. A lot of Semblances are tied to will, love, rage, grief, or identity. Kids raised on the Link often cannot unlock. Adults who had one find it going quiet. The town calls this "stability." Huntsmen call it crippling the next generation.
• Grief that cannot finish. You cannot complete mourning if the peak is illegal. Houses fill with people who are "fine" and also hollow.
• Compliance creep. Dissent feels physically unpleasant. Not pain — just a fog and a nudge back toward the mean. After a few years, residents start pre-censoring themselves so the Link never has to work.
• The Watchers. A small admin caste can read the town's emotional weather map in real time. They know who is about to crack. They decide whether to soothe, isolate, "recalibrate," or remove the problem entirely.

What can you do with this idea?

 

[AndrewJTalon]

Sonic Barrier Technology

Grimm sonic barrier

A Grimm sonic barrier is a defensive system that broadcasts a defined band of sound in order to deter Creatures of Grimm from approaching a settlement, facility, or field position. The effect is aversive, not lethal. Grimm exposed to the correct frequency and power level typically break off and withdraw. The deterrent fails if Grimm numbers are very large, or if a large negative emotional event is occurring among nearby humans and Faunus.

The frequency and power band used by modern systems were isolated in 1970 AMF by Doctor Viktor Merlot, who derived them from traditional sound-makers already used against Grimm. The work received the Ceridwen Prize and made Merlot internationally known. That reputation later led Elias Vorn to hire him as chief scientist on the Mount Glenn project, where the first city-scale barrier was built. Licensed and unlicensed copies of the system are now sold commercially. Purchase is limited by cost, not by kingdom affiliation.

Traditional use of sound against Grimm

Settlements have used loud sound to discourage Grimm for thousands of years. The practice was empirical. Operators knew that some noises caused approaching Grimm to hesitate or turn aside; they did not know which frequencies were responsible or how loud the sound needed to be.

Documented examples include:

• Tablebreaker church bells in Gallia. Paladin-Monks of the Broken Table recorded that a full peal at dawn and dusk reduced Grimm activity along the treeline. Silent steeples were associated with higher losses.
• Vacuoan ram horns. Caravans and well-towns used long horns cut from desert rams. A sustained, irregular blast caused packs to veer away from a column or camp.
• Other instruments, including Mistrali shrine bells, Fuujin war drums, Pandu Dharmism conch horns, and local reed pipes, drums and fiddles.

These sources were effective against scouts and small packs. They were not reliable against large hordes or against Grimm drawn by intense negative emotion.

1970 AMF discovery

Viktor Merlot, then a young Dust and Grimm researcher, treated the traditional sources as experimental material. He obtained recordings and physical examples of Tablebreaker bells, Vacuoan ram horns, and other instruments from multiple kingdoms. He decomposed each sound into its frequency spectrum and discarded components that did not correlate with observed Grimm withdrawal.

In controlled tests he exposed captured Grimm (Beowolves, Ursai, Creeps, and at least one juvenile Death Stalker) to isolated frequency bands at measured amplitudes. Results were logged against species, body size, pack density, and the emotional state of human handlers in an adjacent room.

Merlot identified a family of mid-to-high dissonant frequencies that produced consistent aversion when delivered inside a specific power band. Below that band, Grimm ignored the signal. Above it, they became agitated rather than withdrawing, and the noise was difficult for people inside the perimeter to tolerate. Peak frequencies varied slightly by species. Beowolf aversion sat slightly lower than Ursa aversion. Aerial Grimm responded to a thinner, faster pulse. A stacked chord covering the overlap between common types became the basis of later hardware.

The same paper stated the two failure conditions that remain in use: the barrier does not hold against a very large number of Grimm, and it does not hold during a massive negative emotional event in the defended population. Fear, grief, rage, and despair reduce or cancel the aversive effect.

Ceridwen Prize and public reception

In 1970 AMF Merlot received the Ceridwen Prize, the highest scientific honor awarded on Remnant, for isolating a reproducible Grimm-aversive frequency and power band from traditional emitters. The prize citation described the work as the first scalable Grimm deterrent that did not require a Huntsman on site.

The award produced widespread press coverage and immediate interest from kingdom councils, companies, and frontier municipalities. Merlot became an international public figure. Requests for consultation and licensing followed the publication of the frequency map.

Mount Glenn

Appointment

Years after the prize, Vale industrialist Elias Vorn hired Merlot as chief scientist for Mount Glenn, a planned city over a large Dust vein near Vale. Vorn's requirement was a perimeter that did not depend on a large standing garrison. Merlot's published results were the available method.

Ozpin advised Vorn not to appoint Merlot. Vorn proceeded anyway.

First city-scale system

The Mount Glenn installation was the first full urban barrier. Mast emitters were set in the valley walls and along the outer boulevards and powered from the Dust Nexus, then the largest Dust reactor complex in service. Each mast projected a shaped cone of the stacked chord inside the 1970 power band. Overlapping cones formed a continuous curtain around the city.

The curtain was paired with automated turrets and early robot sentries for individual Grimm that crossed anyway. For several years after the city opened, approaching packs broke off at the treeline and the installation was treated as proven.

Failure during the Fall of Mount Glenn

The barrier failed when three conditions coincided:

• Unauthorized Grimm-mutation experiments in Merlot's underground galleries breached containment. The escaped specimens were larger, faster, and less responsive to the established frequency band.
• The resulting deaths inside the city produced a city-wide surge of fear and grief. That emotional load reduced the effectiveness of the emitters.
• A large Grimm horde followed the breach. At that density the barrier no longer turned the advance.

Turrets exhausted their ammunition. Sentries were destroyed. Underground transit tunnels, built for civilian movement, became the main route of the incursion. Vale demolished the connecting rail tunnel with an explosive train to keep the horde out of the kingdom. Elias Vorn died in Vorn Tower. Huntsmen and militia at the tunnel mouth, including Isabel Arc, Nicholas Arc, and Mercer Sith Senior, held the position until demolition. Merlot left the site. Mount Glenn was abandoned.

Vale's public account emphasized an underground incursion and did not center Merlot's role. Technical records of the frequency map, power-band tables, and mast designs were retained. Doctor Merlot was presumed deceased.

Later development and commercial use

After Mount Glenn, the Merlot paper remained public and the hardware designs circulated through Vorn Combine archives, Valean Defense Force after-action files, and engineers who had worked on the original ring. Merlot Industries, the firm Merlot had founded before his passing, continued to manufacture and sell improved emitters. Other firms produced licensed copies. Atlas and Mistral manufacturers released systems that match the Lattice specifications, sometimes described as independent work.

There is no kingdom monopoly. Systems are sold to governments, militaries, private firms, and settlements that can meet the price. Cost, Dust supply, and maintenance—not legal restriction—determine who operates a barrier.

Design and operation

A modern installation is a network of Dust-powered emitters. Configurations include wall towers, field masts, and compact posts for farms and mines. Broadcast may be continuous at low output or pulsed; frontier sites often switch to full output when a watch reports movement.

Correctly tuned and powered units turn back ordinary Grimm at low to moderate density. Field reports commonly place pack break-off at 200–300 yards from a working farm mast. Urban walls record fewer probing attacks when the grid is intact. Settlements that cannot station a full Huntsman garrison use the systems as a substitute perimeter.

Atlas units are generally the most precise and the most expensive. Mistral produces the largest volume. Vacuo often mounts mixed hardware, including older units, and in many places still keeps ram horns as a backup. Vale's municipal coverage is a mix of licensed Merlot-pattern rings, Valean Defense Force sets, and low-cost hamlet kits. A limited number of rings are in service in Menagerie, including around Kuo Kuana.

 

[AndrewJTalon]

The Keeper

Isabel had run through every other option she could.

Every medical method. Every Dust formulation she had ever trusted. Every desperate little trick her Semblance would let her force on a child's failing body. She had even asked the other half of herself and still it was not enough.

Jaune was eight. He should have been tearing through the orchard with his sisters, not lying in the spare room at Arc-En-Ciel with a rattle in his chest that no Aura, no Healing Dust, and no amount of Total Body Control could silence for long.

Even with Aura, if she ever unlocked it, the life ahead of him looked long and dark.

So she made a request.

The hospital wing was quiet that night. Nick had finally been bullied into taking the other children home. The monitors hummed. Jaune slept with shallow, expensive little breaths.

Isabel sat on the edge of the bed and folded her hands in her lap so they would stop shaking. She knew exactly what she was asking... Yet she had to say it out loud.

"…Meryt," she whispered. "I… I am almost afraid to ask—"

The voice inside her did not make her wait. It never had.

I know the depth of feeling you have for your son, Isabel. Am I not part of you? I have seen the boy through your eyes for all these years. Seen all your children.

A warmth moved around Isabel's spine, old and certain. Not a god. Not a parasite. Just Meryt-"Beloved" in its language. Isabel's ever present companion.

How could I not choose to save him?

Isabel closed her eyes. The relief that hit her was so sharp it felt like grief.

"…Thank you."

Your grandmother offered me sanctuary when my last host was dying. Your father the same, when the time came. Your family has been nothing but kind to me. It would be my honor.

Isabel turned Jaune gently onto his side. Doctor's hands. Mother's hands. She swept his blond hair off the nape of his neck and rested two fingers there, counting the pulse.

"You'll be kind," she said, not quite a question.

Always.

The leaving hurt the way a pulled tooth hurt — a bright, clean absence. Isabel felt Meryt uncoil from the base of her skull, a slender living ribbon of pale gold slipping free into the waiting cup of her palm. For a moment she was only one person again, and the quiet inside her own head was enormous.

She set Meryt against the back of Jaune's neck.

The creature entered the way they always had: swift, precise, no tearing. Jaune's breath hitched once in his sleep. The rattle in his chest softened, and it vanished. Color came back into his mouth. The monitors, which had been negative for weeks, settled into a strong, healthy rhythm.

Isabel stayed there until she was sure. Until the small presence that had lived in her for decades finished seating itself along her son's spine and went still, working.

She did not sleep.

---

Jaune Arc, age eight, woke the next morning whole.

No difficulty breathing. No pain. He was full of energy in a way he had almost forgotten how to be. Sunlight from the window lay across the quilt. He could smell breakfast from downstairs. He could smell.

He sat up.

"Huh…? What happened?"

The door opened. His mother came in with a mug and a look he did not recognize at first — not the doctor face, not the scary-when-angry face. Just his mom, tired and smiling.

"Hello, sweetie." She sat on the bed and brushed his hair off his forehead with two fingers, the way she always did when she was checking for fever and pretending she wasn't. Her other hand, light as anything, found the nape of his neck and rested there. "How are you? How do you feel?"

Jaune thought about it.

"Good... Really good... But my head feels weird."

Isabel's mouth twitched. "Well. I tried a new method to heal you. Or rather... An old method. Meryt agreed to blend with you."

He looked at her for a long time. Eight years old, and already too good at putting pieces together.

"…So I'm the Keeper now?" His voice went small. "Will… will you be okay?"

"I'll be just fine." She said gently. "She's a Tok'ra, Jaune. Not one of the other kind. She asked. She'll keep asking. If you ever want her to leave, she will."

He believed her, because she said it the same way she said eat your vegetables and your father is an idiot but he's our idiot. Then the next thought arrived, bright and stubborn.

"So… can I get my Aura now? You said the Keeper had to be a Hunter too, so they could protect Meryt."

Isabel went still.

Jaune bowed his head, then looked up with different eyes. His voice came out modulated.

"It will keep us both safer, Isabel. I know how you feel but this is the reality of the situation."

The silence stretched. She looked at his face — the color already back in it, the bright eyes — and she sighed, long and quiet.

A Tok'ra in an unlocked person was just a target.

"…Yes."

Jaune's whole body lit up, as he took control again. He grabbed her hand.

"Thanks, Mom. Don't worry though. I'll be careful."

"You'd better," she said, "And Meryt? You'd... Better be prepared to deal with hormones when he hits his teens."

Meryt gently took over with wry smirk that didn't fit on Jaune's young face.

"Oh believe me, I'm more than familiar."

---

Written with help from LeechBlade.

 

[Quietview27]

Then cinder walks by and things take a turn…

Click to shrink...

"Yeesh these powers might've been a mistake," Jaune groaned while massaging his temple.

It'd been 3 days since he somehow became able to read the minds of all the women near him. And when he learned just how obnoxious he was in Weiss' mind, and that was the nicest he could say about what she actually said. Reminder to not play the guitar for her again like that, he quite liked his face not being hit by it.

And that was only the start, because then he'd been curious and looked into others minds, before stopping intentionally because woo boy was that a privacy breach he'd rather not cross willingly.

"Don't think I'll ever recover after Blake," he shivered at the memory of her thoughts when she saw two of their classmates talking to each other. Like seriously they could just be friends Blake where did steamy bathroom sex come from?!

"Maybe I can wish for the power to go. Think I've had my 'fun' with it right no-hm? Oh it's that girl from Haven."

True to word, the woman in question had walked around the corner. She noticed him, and offered a seemingly flirty wink.

"H-hey," he waved, 'I guess one more time couldn't hurt."

'Ah it's that oaf from Nikos' team' he felt a bit hurt, but he also accepted that she wasn't wrong, 'Hmph, despite it he is a bit cute. In a kicked puppy sort of way. A shame to know it won't last long.'

'Wait what?'

'Soon this school with suffer Lady Salem's wrath, and that fool Ozpin will be killed. But first to find Amber.'

Jaune paled at this information, and when she was out of view, he rushed to the headmaster's room. Arriving into the room, Jaune saw the man eyeing him with curiosity.

"Mr. Arc," he offered a smile, "Is there something you need?"

"Y-yes sir," Jaune kicked himself for the stutter but continued, "Um, o-odd question but, do you know a woman named A-Amber?"

The rooms temperature dropped. Jaune saw those green eyes start to shimmer intensely, gone was the playful curiosity, replaced by cold danger.

"Why do you ask?"

"W-well, y-y-you see s-sir I- ok look I found this cool keychain thing, a-and I made a wish thinking it was just me talking to myself right? B-but then it came true a-and I could hear girls thoughts! Kinda bit me in the ass in the end b-but anyway. I listened to one of the transfer students for the Festival, and."

He could see the man's gaze soften a bit, "Could I see this keychain?"

"h-huh? Oh sure,"

He held out the item, and the man seemed to let out a sigh of relief, which confused Jaune more if he were honest.

"I see that you were speaking the truth. And I can also assume this woman's thoughts involved the name Amber yes?"

Jaune nodded, "that, a-and a person named Salem. She said her wrath would come for the school."

"I see," Ozpin's stare was more intense than before, "Mr Arc, who was the transfer you read the mind of? I assure you, your answer will serve a mighty benefit."

 

[AndrewJTalon]

The White Fang had left a bomb under the Valean Capitol Building.

It sat in the service tunnel like a mean little secret: a crate of packed Dust charges wrapped in jury-rigged wiring, a digital timer glued to the face, and a red LED that kept chewing seconds off the world. RWBY and JNPR had chased the last pair of masks down here and found the device instead of the bombers. The bomb squad was on the way.

Too bad they weren't going to get here in time.

Ruby crouched in front of it with Crescent Rose folded at her hip and a screwdriver already in her hand.

"Um… okay, okay…" She swallowed. "Does anyone have experience in bomb disposal…?"

Nora's hand shot up so fast her hammer almost clipped the ceiling.

"I do!"

Ruby stared at her.

"I mean in stopping a bomb from blowing up!"

Nora slowly lowered her hand. Ren shook his head and deadpanned:

"She doesn't."

Jaune dropped to a knee on Ruby's other side, already tracing the wiring with his eyes the way he traced farm circuits and broken Scrolls. His voice came out tight but steady.

"Okay… okay, this is just an electronics problem. Ruby! Pyrrha!"

Weiss was already half a step back, Myrtenaster's chamber clicking as she loaded Ice Dust.

"Weiss, just in case this doesn't work, you need to be ready to put Ice Dust barriers up around the tunnel." Jaune didn't look away from the crate. "Try to contain it."

Ruby popped the main panel. It came off with a cheap plastic snap that felt insulting given the circumstances.

"Okay… usually there's like… a red wire and a blue wire…"

Every wire in the nest was yellow.

Ruby made a noise of pure betrayal.

"Oh come on!"

Jaune leaned in.

"Okay… Pyrrha, through induction you should be able to sense the voltage and amperage of the wires. Am I right, Ruby?"

"Yeah! So we just need to find the right circuit!"

Pyrrha was already there, gauntlet off, two fingers hovering over the first yellow strand like she was about to take its pulse.

"Right!"

Ruby bit her lip.

"Um, but the problem is that telling the detonation circuit from the timer circuit is difficult because the amperage on this is going to be complicated…"

"Okay…"

"I'm just saying I didn't bring a multimeter…"

Jaune didn't even hesitate.

"Pyrrha is the multimeter."

Ruby glanced up.

"Can she tell me precise amperage?"

Pyrrha winced, apologetic even now.

"Um… I can just tell you 'high,' 'medium,' 'low'…?"

"Oh… well… that will work! Totally work!" Ruby said, her grin almost frantic.

"Yeah…" Jaune said, his smile just as tene. "Yeah…"

Weiss's patience snapped first.

"Why not just short out the detonator with Lightning Dust? Or use Ice Dust to freeze it?!"

Nora barked a laugh that had no humor in it.

"Then we might cause the bomb to go off, dummy!"

"I am not—!"

"That is very fair!" Jaune said, before the argument could eat any more time.

Pyrrha worked the nest one wire at a time, eyes half-lidded, Semblance tasting current the way other people tasted weather.

"This… has the highest amperage…"

A beat.

"This has the highest voltage…"

Ruby's hands hovered over the cutters.

"Okay… okay… um…"

Jaune's shoulder bumped hers, light.

"You got this, Crater Face."

Yang was watching the timer like it had personally offended her.

"Yeah… no pressure… we've got… one minute! More than enough time!"

"Yeah…" Ruby whispered. "Yeah…"

She stared at the yellow. All of it yellow.

"Okay… okay… so, um…"

Nothing resolved itself.

"That doesn't help…"

Pyrrha looked at her.

"So…?"

Ruby's voice went very small.

"So… um… I'm going to have to cut the wires… at random."

Jaune exhaled.

"Oh…"

Yang's grin was a little too bright.

"…I'm… I'm confident in you!"

"Yeah! You got this!" Nora added, already bouncing on her toes like surviving this would count as a party. For Nora, it probably would.

"I'm not worried!" Jaune said, which would have been more convincing if his knuckles weren't white on his own knees.

Blake, quiet against the tunnel wall, nodded once.

"Same."

Ruby cut the first wire.

Nothing.

She cut a second.

Nothing.

A third.

The timer kept chewing.

"…Okay… okay… just two left… Need to pick one…"

"Pick one…" Jaune echoed.

Pyrrha's brow furrowed.

"Just… they're equal in amperage… so…"

Ruby's voice cracked into a hiss.

"Why did they design this bomb so badly?! We should—we should complain to them for shoddy bomb construction! It's so sloppy—ridiculous—we're gonna—!"

Blake's voice cut through it, low and even.

"Just… listen to your heart."

Ruby closed her eyes.

The tunnel held its breath with her.

She cut...

Nothing blew up.

The LED died. The timer froze with twelve ugly seconds still on the clock.

Jaune sagged so hard he almost sat on the concrete.

"…I never doubted you."

Yang was already there, crushing Ruby into a hug that lifted her off the floor.

"Not for a second!"

"Totally!" Pyrrha said, smiling like her heart had only just started again.

Weiss had one hand on the wall.

"I think I had a heart attack…"

Nora whooped, hammer over her head.

"WOO! Survived a heart attack! Even better day!"

Ren, deadpan as ever, folded his arms.

"Indeed."

 

[AndrewJTalon]

A Different Kind of Offer

Ruby found Jaune on the roof.

He was sitting with his back against a vent, Crocea Mors laid across his knees. The Vale lights were spread out below them, small and far away.

"Hey," she said.

Jaune looked up and scooted over without being asked. "Hey. You look like you just got out of Ozpin's office."

Ruby dropped down beside him. "Is it that obvious?"

"You've got the 'I talked to a mysterious adult and now my brain hurts' face."

That earned him a weak little laugh. Then it faded.

She pulled her knees up and wrapped her arms around them. "General Ironwood offered me a job."

Jaune blinked. "Like… a Huntress job?"

"No." Ruby stared at the city. "Weapons design. In Atlas. Full workshop. Test ranges. Funding. I could build things. Real things. And not have Yang yelling at me for using the kitchen table as a workbench."

Jaune whistled softly. "That's… huge."

"Yeah."

They sat with it for a second.

"I talked to Ozpin first, afterwards," Ruby said. "He said Mom would love it if I became a Huntress. That that was my greatest destiny." She picked at a loose thread on her sleeve. "He said it like it was supposed to make it easy."

Jaune turned the thought over. "Did it?"

"No."

He nodded. "Yeah. That tracks."

Ruby glanced at him. "You're my best friend! You're supposed to tell me what to do and give me great advice!"

"I'm really bad at that."

"I know."

"So why ask me?"

"Cause you're my best friend," Ruby giggled.

Jaune leaned his head back against the vent. "I think Ozpin's right about one thing. Your mom wanted to be a Huntress. She was a Huntress. If she could see you now, she'd be proud of that path. But…" He shrugged. "I don't think she'd want you to pick it just because it was hers."

Ruby frowned. "That's not better."

"I didn't say it was better. I said it was true."

She huffed. "You're supposed to make it less confusing, Jaune."

"Sorry. I left my Best Life Advice binder in the dorm. It's also invisible."

That almost got another laugh. Almost.

Ruby's voice got smaller. "I love being a Huntress-in-training. I love my team. I love fighting Grimm and helping people and… and being like her. But when Ironwood started talking about design labs and field-testing and making weapons that could keep whole cities safer…" She swallowed. "I wanted it. I really wanted it. And that feels like I'm betraying something."

Jaune was quiet for a moment.

"My family wanted me to be a doctor," he said. "Then I ran off to become a Huntsman with fake transcripts and a sword I barely knew how to use. If destiny was just 'do what the people who love you expected,' I wouldn't be sitting on this roof." He looked at her. "Your mom would want you to be happy. I don't know if that means Beacon or Atlas. I don't think anyone gets to know that except you. You're allowed to choose."

Ruby stared at him, silver eyes bright and frustrated. "That doesn't make things any better."

Jaune shrugged. "Yeah. Choices that matter usually don't."

The wind moved across the roof. Far below, a Bullhead lifted off from the docks, running lights blinking against the dark.

Ruby bumped her shoulder into his. "Thanks anyway."

"Did I help?"

"No," she said, then immediately softened. "Yes. I don't know. I'm still not sure what to do."

Jaune smiled a little. "That's okay. You don't have to decide it tonight."

Ruby looked back out over Vale, Crescent Rose's weight a familiar presence at her back, and the offer from Atlas sitting in her chest like a second heartbeat.

Two good paths.

One life.

And for the first time since she'd arrived at Beacon, the dream wasn't simple anymore.

 

[AndrewJTalon]

It's a bit rough with AI, but this is basically how they look. And I kind of like that Nick has the whole "All Might" definition going on.

 

[AndrewJTalon]

What if someone tried to create a Grimm/Human hybrid?

Think about it: If you could make a human/Grimm hybrid, maybe they could give you insight into how Grimm work. Maybe they could give you information on how Grimm operate and track humans. Maybe you could even figure out how to control Grimm with them.

So someone makes a Grimm/Human hybrid. Top secret lab. Speed grown.

RWBY and JNPR with Oobleck investigate this lab, where the staff has mysterious disappeared, leaving one surviving scientist... And a strange little girl.

A little girl who knows nothing beyond a cell in a laboratory. Who has undergone torture and horrific experiments.

And now... She is starting to hear a voice in her head. An older, female voice...

 

[AndrewJTalon]

Something Left Behind

The lab did not look abandoned so much as interrupted.

Lights still hummed. Screens still glowed. A kettle sat on a burner in the break room, long since boiled dry. Oobleck moved through the corridors at a speed that would have been comical if the place had not smelled like antiseptic and fear, the rest of RWBY struggling to keep up.

"Notes dated as recently as forty-eight hours ago!" he said, flipping through a clipboard without slowing down. "Staff roster of twenty-three. Security logs cease at 02:14. No distress signal. No evacuation order. Fascinating! And horrifying! Mostly horrifying!"

Yang kicked a door open. "Yeah, Doc, we got that part."

They found the surviving scientist in a sealed observation booth, curled under a desk with a shattered Scroll in his hands. When Jaune pried the door open, the man stared up at them.

"Ah... Rescue party? Good."

Ruby lowered Crescent Rose a fraction. "What happened here?"

The scientist laughed once. It made their stomachs curdle. "Oh... Nothing much."

"What are you working on here?" Oobleck demanded. The scientist was silent. "Well?"

Slowly, he pointed at a room marked "Containment Three".

Nora yanked the door open.

In the middle of the room, glowing faintly in the gloom of concrete and metal, sat a glass cell. RWBY, JNPR, and Oobleck, escorting the scientist, entered.

A little girl sat on a cot in the glass cell, studiously scribbling on paper with crayons on a cot. No toys, a few books. Other than that, just a drain in the floor and a camera in the corner that was still blinking. She looked eight, maybe nine. She might have been pretty if you ignored the black veins faintly visible at her throat and the way her black and red eyes tracked them through the glass.

She stood up when she saw them.

Oobleck's coffee cup lowered. "…Oh."

Blake's ears were flat. "She's a kid."

Jaune immediately knelt down and pressed his hand to the glass. The child stared for a moment, before she extended her hand back to press back.

"Hey," Jaune said softly, "It's okay... We're here to help you."

"Don't get too close to it," the scientist stated. Oobleck glared.

"'It?'" He asked dangerously.

"I know what it looks like," the scientist stated, "But it's not a child."

"Let her out!" Nora demanded, holding up her hammer threateningly. The scientist shook his head.

"It's not a child. It doesn't matter what it looks like, it's not."

"What are you doing to her?" Weiss demanded, her rage barely held back by icy control. Yang was just as threatening with her eyes and hair glowing.

"Containing it. For study."

Pyrrha's hand tightened on Miló. "You did this to a child."

"She's not a child." He would not look at the glass. "That was just what survived the process."

Ruby stepped closer to the window. The girl tilted her head, mirroring her.

Ruby lifted a hand, slow, and waved.

After a second, the girl waved back. Small. Careful. Like she had seen the gesture on a recording and was trying it for the first time.

Jaune's voice was quiet. "Does she have a name?"

The scientist snorted. "Subject Vesper. We… some of the night staff called it Vee."

Nora, for once, did not joke.

"Open it," Oobleck said. The scientist sighed.

"I know what it looks like. I know. But you can't let it out."

"Let her out or we'll splatter your brains against the walls," Yang snarled. Oobleck held up a hand.

"... Leave her in the cell for the moment," he stated.

A flurry of protests emerged from the teenagers, but Oobleck shook his head.

"I have to go over their logs and notes," he stated. The scientist sucked in a breath.

"Only if I can call my lawyer."

Oobleck stared at him.

"If you're asking for that then you know-"

"Of course," the scientist demurred, "You're too smart not to figure it out."

Oobleck slowly shook his head. He couldn't look at Vee.

"... Then-"

"Yes," The scientist murmured, "We did it."

"Did what?!" Ruby demanded.

"... Keep watch over her," Oobleck ordered, "do NOT let her out. Under any circumstances."

"But-!" Yang protested, but Oobleck silenced her with a glare.

"Do not let her out."

He led the scientist out. The teenagers turned their focus to the small girl in the cell.

Vesper did not attack. She flinched from sudden movement and stared too long at ordinary things: Ruby's cloak. Yang's hair. The sound of Ren's breathing. When Weiss offered her a protein bar through the wall slot, Vesper turned it over in both hands for nearly a minute before taking a cautious bite, as if fearing it was a trick.

"She's never been outside," Blake said.

"She's never been anywhere," Yang muttered.

Ruby sat on the floor so she would not tower over the girl and scooted right up to the glass. "Hi. I'm Ruby. You're safe now, okay? We're going to get you out of here."

Vesper's mouth moved around the words like they were a foreign language. "…Out."

"Yeah. Out."

The girl touched the black veins at her neck. "The voice is louder when the glass is gone."

Everyone went still.

Jaune crouched beside Ruby. "What voice, Vee?"

Vesper looked past them, at a point in the air none of them could see. Her expression was not quite fear. It was recognition.

"She says the people in white coats were fools," Vesper whispered. "She says they poked at the edge of her work and called it science." A pause. "She says I am unfinished."

Ruby reached for Vesper's hand without thinking. The girl pressed her hand back. The black veins under it pulsed once, slow as a tide.

"She knows my name," Vesper said, and for the first time she sounded almost happy. "She says I don't have to stay in the room anymore. She says I can come home."

Jaune met Ruby's eyes. Her silver orbs widened in confusion.

"What does that mean, Vee?" Ruby asked.

"... I can come home," Vesper whispered.

Outside the lab, the forest was very quiet.

Too quiet.

Like the Grimm in the trees had stopped hunting.

Like they were listening.

 

[AndrewJTalon]

Ruby kicked the RWBY dorm door open, then kicked it shut behind her hard enough that the hinges rattled.

Yang looked up from her bunk, one boot half-off. "Whoa. What—"

"What the heck are you doing?" Ruby demanded. Her cheeks were flushed, her cloak still half-on. "I liked Jaune first!"

Yang blinked, then let out a slow breath and finished pulling her boot off. "I'm not stealing anything, Rubes. It's up to Jaune to make his decision about dating. Whatever or whoever that is." She shrugged, a little too casual. "Besides… I'm much better suited as Jaune's girlfriend. And future wife. I'm willing to give him time to recover. You're too impatient."

"I am not impatient!" Ruby snapped. "I'm just eager!"

Yang sighed. She patted the mattress beside her. "Sit."

Ruby grumbled, but she sat.

Yang turned to face her properly, elbows on her knees. "If Jaune does choose me, it'll be because he's thinking about what's best for himself and Mia. This isn't a contest." A beat. Then that familiar, crooked grin. "Though I absolutely want to win it."

Ruby growled.

Yang smirked. "Hey. I'm willing to be fair. But I do aim to win."

Ruby's shoulders hunched. "You get everything."

Yang's smirk faded. She pulled Ruby into a one-armed hug and rested her chin on her sister's head.

"Hey. Look. If he decides on you, I'll support you all the way."

Ruby's voice came out small. "Promise?"

"Yeah." Yang squeezed her. "But look. Take it slow, okay? He's still grieving his wife. So don't push him. Or you'll lose him."

Ruby was quiet for a moment. "…I… well, yeah. I don't want that. Or to make you sad. Geez. This is complicated."

"Love always is." Yang's voice softened. "Or a crush. Which is what I think you have. It's your first."

"Nuh uh! Dr. Levant was my first crush!"

Yang pulled back just enough to stare at her. "That goofy scientist from Wormhole X-Treme? Huh. Good choice."

"Ha! See? Jaune's a little like him."

Yang huffed a laugh. "Yeah. In a good way. But that's not the same thing, Ruby." She sobered. "I'm just telling you that you might get your heart broken here."

Ruby looked down at her hands. "…I know. But I feel this way. And… and maybe I don't… know how to be a mom or anything, but… I know how I feel."

"I know." Yang hooked an arm around her shoulders and hugged her close. "So don't worry, okay?"

"Yeah, but… I mean… I don't want to lose…"

"I know. Neither do I. Or the other girls." Yang's voice went firmer. "So no matter what, we still care about Jaune. And each other. Right?"

Ruby was silent for a long second. Then she nodded against Yang's shoulder.

"…All right. But if you marry Jaune… we both marry him."

Yang snorted. "That's not how it works."

"It is totally how it works." Ruby lifted her head, silver eyes bright with stubborn conviction. "Besides, Mia wants lots of mommies."

Yang sighed, fond and exasperated all at once.

"She's greedy."

Ruby smiled, small and fierce.

"And so am I!"

"For cookies, not wives."

 

[AndrewJTalon]

Vale Central Park was doing its best impression of a postcard. Late afternoon light through the trees, paths packed with joggers and families, the distant rumble of traffic on the ring road. Jaune and Blake walked the south loop with VPD vests over their usual clothes. For once, things semeed quiet.

Jaune had been searching for a topic of conversation... And had come up empty. He licked his lips.

"Uh... So... Um... I like your bow."

Blake stared at him like a cat on the farm for a moment, before nodding. "Thanks Jaune."

"Uh. It's okay." He scratched the back of his neck. "We just… never talk much."

"Naturally. We don't hang out much either."

"Yeah."

She glanced at him, then away. "I'm starting to think we should rectify that."

"Oh. Well. Thank you." He cleared his throat. "I-I think we should be better friends too."

"Don't mention it." A small, almost-smile. "I could teach you gag talk."

"…Gag talk?"

Blake produced a handkerchief from somewhere, tied it tight around her mouth, and mumbled something completely unintelligible at him.

Jaune stared. "…How would that help?"

She pulled it off. "You'd be surprised."

A car ripped past the park entrance at speed, blew the red light at the crossing, and kept going. In the back window, a baby was leaning half out into the wind.

Jaune's voice went flat. "That kid's not in a car seat."

"Come on!"

Blake was already moving. She hit the street in a black blur, landed on the trunk, then the roof, hair snapping behind her. Jaune pounded after her on foot, Aura burning in his legs. He wasn't as fast as Blake but he could at least keep up on her tail.

Blake leaped and landed on the hood. She glared at the driver through the windshield.

"PULL OVER!" Blake shouted.

The driver yelped and slammed the brakes. The sedan skidded to a stop halfway into the next intersection, the baby mercifully falling back into the interior. Jaune caught up as Blake dropped to the pavement. He yanked the back door open.

Expensive clothes. Open bottles rolling on the floor. A pretty blonde woman slouched in the back seat, reeking of liquor. The baby sat unsecured beside her.

The driver twisted around, trying for a smile. "H-Hey… uh… what's up?"

"Hey." Jaune kept his voice even. "You guys ran a red light. And your baby isn't in his car seat."

The woman blinked at him, slow and glassy. "Ohhh…?" Then she saw his face and tried for bedroom eyes. It did not work.

"Hey, buddy." Jaune leaned in toward the baby. "Hey."

A patrol car rolled up behind them. Jaune straightened without taking his eyes off the kid.

"Male driver, ran a red, baby was hanging out the window, not strapped in. Female passenger, possible mother, looks drunk."

The officer nodded. "Gotcha."

The baby started to cry.

The woman punched him in the face.

"HEY!" Jaune caught her wrist before the second swing landed. She jerked against his grip.

"Wha… H-hey. I didn't do anything!"

Blake was already there, lifting the baby out of the seat and turning her body so the woman couldn't reach him. The driver shoved his door open and ran.

Blake's foot hooked his ankle. He went down face-first on the asphalt.

The officers had cuffs out before he finished groaning.

"You're under arrest for child abuse, ma'am."

"Wh-Whaaa… but… asshole piss… pissh…!"

They folded her into the back of the cruiser. The second officer looked at Blake.

"You mind calling child services, Miss Blake?"

"On it."

Jaune checked the baby over with careful hands. A bruise was already darkening on the little cheek. The kid had gone quiet after the hit, which was worse than the crying.

"Bruise. Poor guy. He's so quiet after a hit." Jaune grimaced. That had a lot of nasty implications.

Blake lowered her scroll. "Just got off with Child Services. They're sending someone to the station."

"Hey, hey." Jaune rocked him a little. "It's gonna be okay, buddy. I promise."

The baby hiccuped, then smiled. Then giggled.

One of the officers clapped Jaune's shoulder. "You're good."

From the cruiser, the mother protested drunkenly: "My baby is… he's fine… I didn't hit… didn't hit nothin'…!"

They shut the door on her.

The driver was being held up against the other car. An officer leaned on the frame. "So. What are you to her? Are you the baby's father?"

"N-No. Yeah. Maybe? I-I dunno. She's slept around—"

Blake's look could have peeled paint.

"We were just, ya know… um…"

"Why were your pants down?"

"We were kind of… making out."

"With your kid in the car," Blake stated, cold and hard.

"He was in the back while we were doin' it… That's fine, right? Riiight..."

The breathalyzer chirped. Very drunk. He went into the same car as the woman, handcuffed and handled none too gently.

"You mind waiting for CPS while I take them in?" the second officer asked.

"Sure." Jaune kept rocking. The baby's eyes were already drifting.

Blake stood beside him, arms folded, watching the cruisers pull away. Her eyes were narrowed to near slits.

"…Some people," she muttered angrily.

Jaune started humming, then singing under his breath. An old lullaby. It soothed the child, and he slowly slipped into sleep. Blake looked down at the child, and bit her lower lip.

"I don't know if we did anything good here. He might end up back with that woman."

"Give it a chance," Jaune said gently.

The baby giggled in his sleep. Blake reached out, hesitant, and stroked his hair. Tiny fingers closed around hers.

She didn't know what she was doing. Jaune could see it in the way she held her wrist too stiff.

"I can help you with this."

"Huh? I uh—"

He adjusted her arms, showed her how to support the head, how to let the kid settle against her. Blake went still.

"Ok…"

The baby turned and snuggled into her chest like he'd been waiting for it.

"Oh."

"He likes you."

"I… um. Oh. G-Good."

Jaune smiled a little. "Are you an only child?"

"…Yes."

"I'm a middle child."

Blake's mouth twitched. "It shows."

"Naturally I learned about stuff like this."

A vision hit her. Two kids, blond with cat ears, tearing across a yard. A nice, cozy home. Jaune in the middle of it, laughing, not even looking surprised.

"Blake? You okay?"

Blake, dazedly, replied: "Yes, honey?"

"Huh?"

She shook her head hard. "What?"

"What?"

"I didn't say anything!" Blake insisted.

Jaune blinked.

"…Okay...?"

 

[AndrewJTalon]

Dealing with rogue Hunters would be a whole deal. There are those who start side businesses or monetize their image, become celebrities, and that is legal. But they might get into various illegal activities with their wealth. So they can be corrupt in white collar ways.

There are those on the frontier who basically create a fiefdom or act like gangsters with a territory, shaking down the local people.

Or those who work with bandits or corrupt companies for a share of the spoils on the frontier.

There would thus need to be people who would investigate incidents or accusations and would need backup sufficient to deal with the situation if it turned ugly.

You see, a single powerful Huntsman is a threat. But if you have a team of powerful Hunters supported by a SWAT team with ground and air support, then he has fewer options.

Even with Aura and Semblances, they are still human (Or Faunus). They can't hold out in a long siege indefinitely. They can be scared, tired, hungry, thirsty. They might be reasoned with. And they might be overwhelmed. Basically, you treat them as a very dangerous criminal. Society deals with criminals by ensuring that the force that opposes them has better gear, better training, better support, and usually higher numbers.

As powerful as a single Huntsman can be, 99 percent of them cannot defeat that kind of force. Only 1% would be the equivalent of Akatsuki or other ridiculous outside context problems.

The Huntsman's Association of Remnant (HAR) would have elite agents who assist local law enforcement, who would likely have their own elite Aura-activated units to deal with threats of this nature as well as very powerful Grimm.

 

[AndrewJTalon]

Arslan sat cross-legged in the little chapel on the Beacon Academy campus, hands folded, breathing even. The stained glass threw colored light across the floor in slow bands. She had been there long enough that the hush had settled into her bones.

Soft footsteps. Then a voice, bright and earnest as a bell.

"Hello, Friend Arslan! You are a nun of the Tablebreaker Church, correct?"

Arslan opened her eyes. Penny Polendina stood a few paces off, posture perfect, head slightly tilted, as if she had rehearsed the approach and then threw it out to just go for it.

"That is correct."

"So…" Penny's fingers laced together. "You are knowledgeable about matters of theology and philosophy?"

"I know a fair amount," Arslan said. "Though I am not a master."

Penny nodded, very serious. "Then tell me… could an artificial lifeform have a soul?"

Arslan did not answer at once. She looked at Penny the way she looked at a question that mattered.

"Normally, no."

Penny's face fell. The light in her eyes dimmed by a degree, as if someone had turned a dial.

Arslan's voice softened. "But perhaps?"

Penny brightened at once.

"The real issue," Arslan went on, "is that Aslan would have to imbue a soul in an artificial construct. For what ends, I do not know."

She let the silence sit a moment, then added, quieter, "But He would know. And He would grant such a being a soul if He wanted to."

"Why would He?"

"Because it was to the greater glory of His creation. An act of love." Arslan's gaze did not waver. "To teach us to seek out life that needs salvation, and deserves our love and brotherhood even if it does not match our narrow definitions of life."

"Why?"

Arslan almost smiled. "Does your father love you, Penny?"

Penny hesitated. "I believe so. He tells me so. He gave me life."

"To create is an act of love," Arslan said. "That is why the Emperor Above created us. Out of love. But love is to nurture. To support. To help your child grow. To allow them to make mistakes. And to guide them in the ways of justice, of wisdom, and of kindness. That is love. Does your father do that for you?"

"Yes."

"Then it is the same with God and us. To teach us. To nurture us. To be His children. To live with Him. Because He takes joy in our existence." A pause. "Does your father take joy in your existence?"

"Yes…"

Arslan smiled then, small and sure. "So it would be with an artificial organism, if it was created with love. If the Emperor Above decided that the artificial life should have a soul… if it was created with love… then it could have a soul, if Aslan willed it."

She studied Penny a moment longer.

"Why do you ask?"

Penny's voice dropped. "I… sometimes wonder if I have a soul beyond an energy source. If it is more. If… I am more." She looked up. "Do you wonder that?"

"Yes," Arslan said. "Sometimes."

Penny stared at her, amazed.

"Do not be so shocked. We all doubt from time to time." Arslan's hands remained folded in her lap. "I know my soul. I know my teachings. I have met Aslan… or I believe I have. But I still experience moments of doubt. Of darkness."

"You have met Aslan?" Penny asked. "How?"

"When I was a child, my parents brought me to a film festival at Haven Academy. I wandered away. Got lost. Started shouting for them until my voice gave out." Arslan's eyes went distant, but not unkind. "I ended up in a chapel, crying, and finally fell asleep on one of the pews.

"When I woke up, a kindly male Lion Faunus was kneeling beside me. He had a warm voice and gentle eyes. He asked, 'Arslan, why are you sleeping?' I told him I was lost. He nodded and said he understood. Even though I didn't know him, I felt… completely safe. Like I could trust him with anything.

"He took my hand and told me my parents would be here soon. Then he asked what I wanted to do with my life. I said I didn't know, but I wanted to do good things and help people. He told me it would be very difficult. That I would have to be brave. I said it was hard to be brave because I was always scared. He answered that being brave wasn't about not having fear. It was about controlling it long enough to do what needed to be done.

"The doors opened. My mother and father rushed in and hugged me so tightly I thought I might break. I tried to tell them about the nice man who had helped me… but when I turned around, he was gone. No one else had seen him."

Penny considered this with same gravity she gave to Floating Array's trajectories.

"…Could it have simply been a sneaky Lion Faunus priest?"

"It could have been." Arslan's mouth tipped. "But much of life is down to how you choose to see things. To have faith in your outlook, even if you do not know for sure. So perhaps it was just a kindly stranger. But it could have also been Aslan Himself guiding me. So I choose to believe the latter."

Penny was very still. "Just as… I could see my soul as merely a power source… or something deeper. And therefore, that I am… alive?"

"Yes, Penny." Arslan's voice was quiet, almost fond. "Just like the artificial lifeform you posited. As a thought exercise."

Penny hiccuped. She smiled, nervous and bright. "Yes. Thought exercise."

Arslan's knowing smile was small enough to miss, if you were not looking. She closed her eyes again, but not all the way.

"As you say, Friend Penny."

 

[zMADLAXz]

It is this kind of commitment, this effort to be kind and compassionate to the needy, the suffering... This is why they would oppose Jaune becoming a Hunter. Indeed, any of their children becoming Hunters. But they nevertheless would. They would defy their parents.

Click to shrink...

To be honest this art can be interpreted in another way.

While some would look at it and feel the kindness and perseverance of the healer, some other's might also be motivated to seek out a way to make sure that whatever ailment afflicted the child is weakened and perhaps like many other diseases, completely eradicated.

For example, from what I can search, his child died of Typhoid fever, caused by a bacteria, and since human physicians are the spiteful bastard they are, have managed to craft cures for bacteria such as this.

Such can also be said about Humanity's fight against Measles, Tuberculosis, Chickenpox etc.

It's the same I think would happen with Jaune, while Isabelle sees a work that inspires humility and patience, to a person as Jaune who is defined by his need to save and prevent people from falling into danger, he will see this as a challenge to overcome.

Remnant doesn't face the same problem as the late 19th century humanity with a lack of clear defined health protocols, the greatest threat to human life and life of the impoverished is the Grimm, no if and or buts.

What is a healer to do but take arms and fight Death till a life is saved from its maw?

In fact- Why not shake some rust off.

---

Coming to the western section of city of Vale was always an experience in humility. The Great War and the later era was defined by the focus on the need for Human emotional upliftment. It was an era of perhaps the greatest and longest lasting peace this word hade seen.

Yet it came with its own victims.

Those who fell to the wrong side of luck were often put at a place together with people who faced similar situations as the, "To ensure the ability to concentrate on the care of all such people at once together", said the Powdered Wigs.

It was a diversion tactic, let those who are most capable of attracting greater quantities of Grimm be the ones to face the Brunt alone, ignore all the tragedies they have faced or are facing, let them be the molding and rotten kindling to be fed to the flame.

That was the opinion of the leading Cynics. There was more nuance to the situation than that, such as chance, lack of resources, wrong timing and planning at civilian side.

Yet, as a student of medicine it was tough to not fall to the path of the Cynic.

"Well that's the last of them, we'll see how many more doses of vaccination we are gonna get next month", Isabelle instructed her son to clear out the area while her auxiliary staff need no such instructions.

These regular rounds of providing vaccination and meal packets for the new mothers in the western section of Vale were a routine thing for them.

She had however started to bring her 13 year old son alongside her. The catalyst for the decision being his increased interest in huntsman related pursuits, and more and more time he spent "playing" and "hanging out" that she knew was him discreetly trying to teach himself basics of swordsmanship.

"Mom, those three Faunus families from Mistral, why are they so far from home?", asked her son, once they both got seated in the government issued Jeep for the medical staff and drove off, the sights of disrepair, poverty and people living at the edge of ruin were common.

"Grimm incursions are sometimes.... diverted if they cannot be completely stopped or there aren't enough Huntsman available sweetheart, some people just...... at the wrong place and the wrong time", she said as diplomatically as she could but her experience knew the real story, let the Grimm slake their Bloodlust on them, keep the "productive" people safe.

Bunch of criminals and gangsters in politics.

"Why couldn't they be saved too?"

"Jaune... we are humans, we cannot help everyone, we try to do the best we can with what we are given, and offer out support where we can", she chose her words carefully. Hoping that perhaps one of her children wasn't born with the Arc spirit.

"As healthcare professional however, I am still able to help far more people who are affected by Grimm and some times poor planning on our part"

Her son seemed pensive, fiddling with his bracelet he was given by one of the staff as a token of appreciation personally.

"What if one of the Huntsman that was present there, when the people needed help tried to help them?"

"Sometimes there is... incentive to help somewhere else, because maybe it is better to focus to save more people", she answered him.

"So the Huntsman have to listen to every order?"

She so wanted to tell her child that, it would be so easy too, just a little lie–. No, no, what is she thinking, a wrong concept taught at a young age could become poison of the mind when they saw the world for themselves, but perhaps-

"Jaune, huntsman have to think about everything, planning the optimal way of approach, and and which area to save first–

"Just like we do in Hospital mom? During emergencies?"

".......Yes, yes Jaune, it could be an emergency everyday on the job for huntsman for a whole month, of gruelling pain of losing people around them, of losing their comrades"

"But people still become huntsman?"

"....Jaune you don't have to be a huntsman to help people, honey"

".....Yes mom"

Polite and well mannered, that was her son, with his own bouts of mischief at times but this time why did she fell like, that she was so far away from her own blood and flesh, why did it feel like–

—Like she was merely a passing suggestion to the stalwart wall of her son.

 

[AndrewJTalon]

Technical Profile: SAC-SPH Fasolt

• Type: Wheeled Self-Propelled Howitzer
• Manufacturer: Slagfior Automotive Company
• Origin: Vale
• Role: Mobile artillery, area bombardment, anti-Grimm fire support, counter-battery, long-range strike against large Grimm and fortifications
• First Deployment: 1988 AMF
• Cost: Moderate (uses the existing SAC-HLT 8×8 heavy logistics truck chassis and off-the-shelf Dust systems)
• Dimensions:
  • Length: 12.6 meters (hull); 14.8 meters with gun forward
  • Width: 3.9 meters
  • Height: 3.6 meters (travel); 4.1 meters with gun at high elevation
  • Weight: 36,000 kg (combat-ready)
• Crew: 4–5 (commander, gunner, driver, 1–2 loaders)
• Powerplant: Slagfior DEM-18 Combustion Dust Engine (750 horsepower, augmented with Gravity Dust for torque)
• Performance:
  • Top Speed: 53 mph (85 km/h) on roads; 34 mph (55 km/h) off-road
  • Range: 310 miles (extendable to 430 miles with external Dust canisters)
  • Ground Clearance: 0.5 meters
• Armament:
  • Primary: 1 × Winchester-Vasagus 155 mm Dust Howitzer (rear-mounted, high-angle, Fire / Ice / Lightning / Gravity Dust shells, guided or unguided, 36–40 rounds onboard, burst 3 rounds in 15 seconds, sustained 6–8 rounds/min)
  • Secondary: 1 × Winchester 12.7 mm Heavy Machine Gun (commander RWS, Gravity Dust-enhanced, 1,200 rounds)
  • Tertiary: 1 × Coaxial or pintle 7.62 mm Machine Gun (2,000 rounds)
  • Optional: Ice Dust smoke grenade banks; laser / datalink kit for guided shells
• Defenses:
  • Composite cab and mount armor (titanium-steel with Ceramic Dust plating, resistant to small arms, shell splinters, and Grimm claws)
  • Anti-Grimm Sonic Emitters (30-meter radius, disorients lesser Grimm)
  • Smoke Launchers (Ice Dust-based for concealment)
• Avionics:
  • "DeadEye" Sensor Suite (thermal, Dust-signature, and motion detection; tracks up to 20 targets for fire direction)
  • Computer-Assisted Fire Control (meteorological mast, muzzle-velocity radar, targeting optimized for large Grimm, nests, and grid coordinates)
  • Secure Comms Array (encrypted links to VDF command, Huntsmen, Tigertails, and air support)
  • Terrain Mapping System (real-time analysis for Vale's terrain)
• Special Features:
  • SAC-HLT 8×8 Chassis: Shared with Slagfior's heavy logistics truck for cost, parts, and field repair
  • Shoot-and-Scoot Mount: Emplaces or displaces in about one minute
  • Dust Refueling System: External canisters for extended range
  • Amphibious Kit: Optional sealing for shallow water crossings (up to 1.0 meter)
  • High-Angle Fire: Elevation to +70 degrees for mountain valleys, urban defilade, and limited harassment of low airships
• Variants:
  • Fasolt-S (Standard): Base 155 mm howitzer on HLT chassis
  • Fasolt-G (Guided): Extra guided-round stowage and better datalink
  • Fasolt-R (Rocket): Experimental pack in place of the tube (limited issue)
  • HLT-A (Ammunition): Unarmed sister truck carrying the battery's main magazine
  • HLT (Parent Truck): Cargo, troop, and towed-weapon logistics vehicle

Background and Development: SAC-SPH Fasolt

Slagfior Automotive Company already built the Wyrm IFV and the SAC-HLT eight-by-eight logistics truck, so they were a natural choice to build a cheap, effective self-propelled artillery system for the VDF. The VDF needed a mobile howitzer that could bombard Grimm and enemy units beyond range without buying a unique tracked chassis. Slagfior mounted a 155 mm Dust howitzer on the HLT frame, keeping the same engine family, wheels, and canisters as the cargo truck that tows and feeds it. They also added the ability to "lock down" once it is in place to fire. When doing so, four mechashift support braces extend from the sides and back of the vehicle to provide a larger ground cross-section and a more stable firing platform for the massive gun. The transition from moving to locked-down state is only a few seconds, allowing the Fasolt to fire and manoeuvre rapidly.

The Fasolt, named for a legendary giant knight from Albion mythology, was first deployed in 1988 AMF after trials in the Vale highlands and on the Vacuo plateau, where batteries had to shoot and move before aerial Grimm or simulated counter-fire found them. It is cheaper than a turreted gun tank and could be built in large numbers. The VDF took to them with a will: artillery was the first tool that let ordinary soldiers hurt large Grimm without an Aura-activated champion, and it has continued to evolve. Shared HLT parts keep it quite reasonable in price, and it has been exported to many of Vale's allies and neighbors.

Capabilities in Remnant's Context: SAC-SPH Fasolt

• Long-Range Fire Support: Drops guided or unguided Dust shells onto packs, nests, bunkers, and grid targets called by scouts, aircraft, or Huntsmen.
• Anti-Grimm Operations: Volume HE and cluster against hordes; Ice to slow large beasts; guided rounds against elder Grimm..
• Mobility: 8×8 speed lets a battery keep up with columns on roads and displace before a Nevermore or peer counter-battery arrives.
• Combined Arms: Lives with HLT-A ammo trucks and support trains. Sky Drakes cover the battery. Chimeras hold the line and provide protection while Wyrm IFVs and infantry provide escort.
• Survivability: Light armor and sonic emitters are a last ditch defense, not for an actual fight. Doctrine is shoot, move, keep the crew. A living gun crew in a new truck is worth more than a heroically defended wreck.

 

[AndrewJTalon]

Technical Profile: SAC-HLT

• Type: Heavy Logistics Truck
• Manufacturer: Slagfior Automotive Company
• Origin: Vale
• Role: Cargo and ammunition transport, troop lift, towed-weapon prime mover, battery resupply, disaster relief
• First Deployment: Year 70 Post-Great War
• Cost: Low–moderate (civilian-derived 8×8, mass-produced with modular beds)
• Dimensions:
  • Length: 11.8 meters
  • Width: 3.7 meters
  • Height: 3.4 meters (cab roof); 3.9 meters with standard cargo bows
  • Weight: 18,000 kg (empty); 32,000 kg (typical combat load)
• Crew: 2 (driver, commander/assistant); up to 16 passengers on benches in the troop-bed fit, or 2 extra in the cab jump seats
• Powerplant: Slagfior DEM-16 Combustion Dust Engine (650 horsepower, augmented with Gravity Dust for torque)
• Performance:
  • Top Speed: 56 mph (90 km/h) on roads; 34 mph (55 km/h) off-road
  • Range: 380 miles (extendable to 500 miles with external Dust canisters)
  • Ground Clearance: 0.5 meters
  • Payload: 12–14 metric tons on the bed, or one towed 155 mm / engineer trailer
• Armament:
  • Primary (Standard): 1 × Winchester 12.7 mm Heavy Machine Gun (cab-roof pintle or light RWS, Gravity Dust-enhanced, 800 rounds)
  • Optional: 7.62 mm pintle at the bed ring; Ice Dust smoke grenades
  • Whatever weapons troops are carrying with them.
• Defenses:
  • Light composite cab (titanium-steel with Ceramic Dust plating, resistant to small arms and Grimm claws; not 25 mm rated like a Wyrm)
  • Optional slat or cage kit for the cargo bed
  • Anti-Grimm Sonic Emitters (25-meter radius, disorients lesser Grimm)
  • Smoke Launchers (Ice Dust-based for concealment) on armed hulls only
• Electronics:
  • Basic "DeadEye-Lite" package (thermal and motion detection; tracks up to 10 nearby contacts)
  • Secure Comms Array (encrypted links to VDF columns, batteries, and air support)
  • Terrain Mapping / convoy navigation system
• Special Features:
  • Modular Bed: Flat cargo, troop benches, tanker bladder, workshop shelter, ammunition racks, etc
  • 8×8 All-Terrain Drive: Shared axles and run-flats
  • Dust Refueling System: External canisters; can refuel other vehicles in the field
  • Pintle and Tow: Draws towed howitzers, trailers, and disabled light vehicles
  • Amphibious Kit: Optional sealing for shallow water crossings (up to 1.0 meter)
  • Soft-Top or Hard-Box cargo: Hard-box preferred for Dust and 155 mm cells
• Variants:
  • HLT-C (Cargo): Standard 12–14 t bed
  • HLT-T (Troop): Benches and tailgate ramps for 12–16 infantry
  • HLT-A (Ammunition): Racked ammo for tanks, artillery, etc.
  • HLT-F (Fuel / Dust): Bladder or cell tanker
  • HLT-W (Workshop): Field repair shelter
  • HLT-M (Medical): 8 stretchers or an in-field surgical suite
  • HLT-GE (Generator): Mobile Dust Generator for power
  • HLT-TA (Towed Artillery): Able to tow field artillery pieces as well as provide partial resupply
  • HLT-H (Hospitality): Mobile kitchen and recreation unit
  • HLT-Q (Electronics/Communications): Communications and control vehicle for drones.
  • Fasolt: The 155 mm self-propelled howitzer built on this chassis

Background and Development: SAC-HLT

Slagfior's civilian heavy truck line was already hauling Dust and timber across Vale when the VDF asked for a single 8×8 that could support the Army and Marines without being too costly. The SAC-HLT entered service in Year 1970 AMF as that truck: same plant, same engines, armor only where the driver sits.

Of all the vehicles that support Vale's military, the HLT is probably the least appreciated but most vital given all the roles it plays: Workshop, tanker, ammo carrier, medical, mobile power, and many other tasks. Territorial Guard, Militia, Marines, Army and PMCs all use it. After 1988, the same frame became the Fasolt's mount, giving the VDF a cheap mobile artillery unit as well.

Simple, easy to maintain, and downright ugly, the HLT is the backbone of the VDF's logistics and a popular export vehicle.

Capabilities in Remnant's Context: SAC-HLT

• Logistics Backbone
• Artillery Train
• Troop and Disaster Lift
• Prime Mover
• Endlessly Adaptable

Note: Because an army moves on its stomach and you need logistics.

 

[AndrewJTalon]

Ren had prepared the common room with what he considered reasonable expectations.

Cushions in a circle. The lights dimmed. Soothing incense burning. A single chime.

"The goal," he said, settling into a seat with great gravity, "is stillness. Breath in. Breath out. Let thoughts pass without chasing them."

Ruby immediately raised a hand. "Do thoughts about weapon maintenance count?"

"Yes."

"What about thoughts about improving weapon maintenance?"

"Also yes."

Ruby nodded solemnly, then started tapping a rhythm on her knee.

"Also don't do that," Ren said.

"Do what?"

Yang cracked one eye open. "So we just sit here and do nothing? That's the whole class?"

"It is not nothing," Ren said. "It is attention."

"Sounds like nothing with better branding."

Nora was already vibrating. "Can I meditate harder? Like, if I focus really loud, does it work faster?"

"No."

"What if I meditate with my hammer?"

"Especially no."

Jaune sat up too straight, like posture alone might unlock enlightenment. "Okay. Stillness. I can do stillness. I am great at stillness. I am a statue. I am—"

His stomach growled.

Pyrrha smiled without opening her eyes. "You're doing fine, Jaune."

"Oh, yeah, yeah," Jaune managed.

Which is when Pyrrha's stomach growled. She flushed.

"Oh, sorry. I forgot lunch in all the excitement!"

"Of meditation class?" Yang asked dryly.

"Sorry?"

Weiss had her back perfectly aligned and her hands folded in a way that suggested she had researched 'correct meditation' for forty minutes and still disapproved of the source material. "This would be more efficient if we quantified progress. Is there a rubric?"

"No."

Blake, to Ren's mild astonishment, was actually doing it. Breathing even. Shoulders loose. The picture of calm.

Then he noticed where her eyes were focused: On her Scroll... Hidden behind her hands.

"Blake."

"I am breathing," she said, without looking up.

"You are also reading."

"Multitasking is a form of harmony."

Ren inhaled. Counted to four. Exhaled.

Ruby whispered, "Do Grimm meditate?"

Yang whispered back, "Do they need to?"

"Why is that important?" Jaune muttered.

"It might be!" Ruby hissed.

Nora exploded upright. "I DID IT. I emptied my mind!"

Ren opened one eye. "For how long?"

"Almost three seconds! Then I thought about pancakes. Then I thought about maple pancakes. Then I thought about Ren making maple pancakes. Then I thought about you in an apron. Then—"

"Nora."

"I'm helping!"

Jaune's face had gone red. "I think I accidentally meditated so hard I got a cramp."

"That is not how it works," Yang scoffed. "You can't think yourself into a cramp!"

"Maybe you don't think as hard as I do," Jaune muttered. Yang scowled.

"Are you saying I'm dumb, VB?!"

"No, no, I wasn't-I didn't-Ruby, help?"

Weiss cracked one eye. "Ren, your jaw is clenched."

"I am fine."

Pyrrha, still the only person besides Ren and Jaune making a sincere attempt, murmured, "Your heart rate looks elevated."

"I am fine."

Ruby's Scroll chimed. She winced. "Sorry! Sorry. It was just a workshop alert. About a new Dust cycle."

Ren stared at her. She flushed.

"I can ignore it. I am ignoring it. I am very ignoring it!"

Yang had fallen asleep sitting up and was now snoring.

Nora began humming.

Blake flushed as she swiped to another page.

Weiss grumbled.

"At least pretend you're trying to do it correctly!"

"Are you?" Blake shot back. "You're not supposed to talk."

"You're not supposed to read!"

"You're not supposed to be overbearing and unpleasant, but here you are."

"Why you-!"

As they fought, Jaune whispered, "Am I supposed to feel floaty or just bored?"

Ren set the chime down with great care, reminding himself he couldn't hit them with it.

"We are taking a five-minute break," he said.

Nora pumped a fist. "When do we fight something?"

Ren pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed.

 

[AndrewJTalon]

A Gravemind Grimm. An ancient and powerful Eldritch Leviathan-class Grimm that doesn't want Salem or Ozpin to win, because that will mean its destruction.

It knows things...

Like that the Brothers are frauds. They did not create Remnant. It doesn't want all Grimm to be destroyed, because that would mean its destruction.

So now it seeks out those who might work for it, instead.

Ruby: "Who... What are you?!"

???: "I... I am a monument... To all your sins..."

 

[AndrewJTalon]

I will admit due to Red vs. Blue and Monty's HALOID I do put a lot of Halo influence into my depiction of the militaries of Remnant.
The ground vehicles are very closely based on Halo vehicles, as an example. The Valeans are able to airlift all their heavy vehicles anywhere. Their focus is more on mobility, logistics and maneuver, whereas Atlas is more of the "mobile fortification" school of thought.

That is, Atlas is more of the "Come at me bro" strategy where they make an unassailable position and grind attackers down to nothing, then attack. Whereas Vale is more about maneuver warfare. Both militaries do use defense in depth and maneuver, of course, but it's a difference of prioritization and main focus.

And much like the UNSC, anything the size of a small capital ship and bigger will carry troops. And frigate-sized vessels can land, and thus, function as light troop carriers as well.

---

The frigate moved far more quietly than a ship the size of a flying building should.

It came in low up the river valley, gun decks dark, belly already open, four Dust jacks glowing neon red. The militia strip west of Radian was a little more than a broad stoop of packed gravel and painted rocks. The ship came down on it as gently as a floating feather, landing gears slowly extending.

Jacks kissed dirt. The keel groaned like a locomotive hitting the brakes. The whole hull settled until the grass lay flat under the shadow of the prow and the ramp hit with a sound like a car slowly crashing.

"Down and cold," the boatswain called, which was a lie. The reactors were only quiet. Quiet enough that the first Chimera tank could roll off without the lift cells fighting the weight.

Forty tons of Valean armor came down the ramp, smooth as you please. Marines in Radian green-adjacent kit drove in Dart all terrain utility recon vehicles, peeling toward the tree line. The Sky Drake anti-air battery, the same bogie-suspension and hull as the Chimera but the turret packing four rotary cannons, followed closely, radar already scanning above.

Mercer Senior watched from the fence, ears flat, with Nick and Jaune Arc watching. The old cat Faunus grunted, and adjusted his rotary gun arm.

"They always look so green when they come by," he huffed. Nick grinned.

"Well, that's because they're in training."

Mercer grumbled.

"They gotta train near my fields? They keep driving into the wrong ones."

"They're expanded fields and you're resting them," Nick consoled, "Not even in the main town."

"Even so," Mercer huffed.

"They pay us plenty for it, and it's good to let them," Nick soothed, chewing on a wheat stalk, "They need the experience."

Jaune's eyes were fixed on the last Dart. Rather than Marines, it carried a dark haired, grim looking man in black and silver armor with a massive sword, a smirking redheaded woman in a witch's hat with a low cut dress to show off her large cleavage, a grim faced man in while with a staff that glowed faintly with restrained power, and a blue haired woman with twin swords, standing at the mounted rotary cannon in the bed of the Dart, wearing a grin.

Hunters, he thought eagerly, Real Hunters!

There was a commotion at the treeline. Dark forms emerged-Black bodies, with their ravenous faces covered by bone masks. Grimm.

"And they take care of a few Beowulf packs that get in too close," Nick commented. Mercer scowled at his friend.

"Ain't that supposed to be your job?"

"Well, when half the militia is out for a wedding, it helps," Nick said. Mercer grunted.

"We could handle them all ourselves!"

"Yes, but they need the practice," Nick emphasized, as the Marines opened up on the Grimm. The Chimera tank fired, blowing apart several Beowulves. The pack scattered into smaller groups, trying to outflank the Marines. The Darts moved out as escorts for the Chimera and Sky-Drake, their guns booming loudly as they engaged the small Grimm at range to keep them at bay.

From the frigate, a Tigertail VTOL rose. It flew up and over, its own cannons joining the fight and blasting through the trees, taking out Grimm hidden in the leaves and branches of the small wood. Jaune stood up on the fence, leaning forward to get a better look.

Why didn't I bring binoculars?!

Even at this distance though... He could make out something big moving through the old wood. Something that fired off jet black spikes that shot into the Marine vehicles. A few men cried out in pain as their vehicles suddenly resembled porcupines. The Chimera kept firing, as did the Tigertail. The whole Marine platoon pulled back, and the Hunters stepped forward.

A reptilian Grimm bigger than two city buses stacked on top of each other burst out of the timber with a roar. Red eyes. Beaked mouth. A ridge of spines down the back.

"A Tarrasque?!" Mercer shouted. "How the hell did it get this close—"

He turned and glared at Nick. Nick sighed.

"What? They asked for more of a challenge."

"It's a Tarrasque!"

"And that's a challenge!"

The man in black drew the sword and shifted it into a rifle on the run, putting rounds in as he blurred from tree to tree. The witch raised her staff and hit the beast with Fire and Ice until it bellowed. The blue-haired woman vanished and came back above, below, and at its knees; the twin blades had become short autocannons, bolts biting deep and cooking off inside the hide. The Tarrasque answered with another spray of spines. The man in white put Dust shields up and the spikes sparked off like rain on a barn roof.

The rifle became a sword again. The man in black went through the thing's legs.

It hit the dirt hard enough that Jaune swore Vale City felt it.

The swordsman tapped his ear, snapped something at his team, and they were gone — back to the Dart, peeling out with the Marines. The Tigertail stayed on station and climbed.

Jaune blinked in confusion.

"What's going-?"

Nick covered his ears. Just in time-The large guns of the frigate opened up on the Tarrasque, great clouds of dirt and debris blasting into the sky like a small volcano was going off. Even with his improvised ear protection, the booms of the guns shook Jaune to his core.

It took a while for the smoke and dust to settle... But when it did, the Tarraque Grimm was dead, dissolving away into smoke.

Jaune grinned and held up his hands.

"THAT WAS AWESOME!" He shouted.

"It sure was!" Nick laughed, patting his son on the shoulder.

Mercer scowled at Nick.

"I'm telling Izzy you let a Tarrasque get this close to the town."

"NO! PLEASE!" Nick begged, already on his knees, "HAVE MERCY!"

 

[AndrewJTalon]

Siegfried-class Air Battleship
Designation: Wayland Air Motors ABS-70 "Siegfried-class"
Classification: Heavy Air Battleship / Gunfire Support & Fleet Heavy Combatant
Role: Direct heavy gunfire against enemy airships, surface targets, and large Grimm formations; persistent area control; heavy escort and support for carrier groups
Manufacturer: Wayland Air Motors
Origin: Vale

Physical Specifications

• Length: 285 m
• Beam: 72 m
• Height: 58 m
• Mass: 175,000 metric tons (combat load)
• Configuration: Broad, heavily framed aerial hull with a reinforced upper gun deck. Twin-keel structure with large Gravity Dust projector bays for lift and station-keeping. Modest amidships hangar and recovery deck secondary to the main battery.
• Armor: Heavy layered titanium-ceramic composite with Dust-reactive panels concentrated on magazines, turrets, engineering spaces, and the lower and upper decks. Significantly thicker protection than Valiant- or Banshee-class carriers.
• Powerplant: 12 × Beltane B820 Dust reactor turbofans + 10 × high-output Neith Gravity Dust projectors.

Mobility & Performance

• Maximum Speed: 240 mph (385 km/h)
• Service Ceiling: 27,000 ft (8,200 m)
• Range: 7,200 miles
• Endurance: 55–65 days on station
• Maneuverability: Modest. Optimized for stable gun platforms and controlled hovering rather than rapid evasion. Gravity Dust projectors allow precise positioning for fire missions.

Armament
Main Battery

• 6 × 380 mm Dust-accelerated heavy guns in three twin turrets on the upper deck (two superfiring forward, one aft).
  • Elevation: −15° to +55°. The substantial depression angle allows effective engagement of surface targets and ground-level Grimm while the upper-deck mounting simplifies ammunition supply, magazine layout, and structural support.
  • Munitions: armor-piercing, high-explosive, and guided Dust-boosted shells for anti-airship and precision work.

Secondary & Dual-Purpose

• 12 × 150 mm dual-purpose guns in twin mounts.
• 18 × 76–88 mm rapid-fire dual-purpose guns.

Point Defense & Anti-Grimm

• 22 × Winchester M77 30mm CWIS autocannons
• 10 x Redspot Small Multirole Missile Launchers x 40 rounds per launcher

Air Group

• 10–14 aircraft typical: mix of Tempest Viper fighters for self-defense CAP, Tigertails for utility and local support, and occasional Dragonet heavy-lift.
• The hangar is deliberately modest; the ship is not a substitute for a Valiant or Banshee.

Sensors & Avionics

• Njord QAESA-7 Air Search and Fire Control Radar/Infrared Sensor Array System
• Full integration with VDF datalinks for coordinated fire with VDF units.
• Njord QSA-566 EW and countermeasure suite.

Crew & Capacity

• Crew: ~1,450–1,600
• Troops: Up to 250 for short-duration operations
• Internal volume prioritized for magazines, damage control, and gun crews rather than large troop or cargo capacity.

Key Features & Design Philosophy
The Siegfried-class restores a dedicated heavy-gun capital ship to the Valean fleet after the painful lessons of the Great War. Early in that conflict, Mistralian and Mantle carrier strikes devastated Vale's older air battleships, which had been designed with insufficient organic air defense and poor coordination with their own limited air groups. The result was a post-war doctrinal shift that heavily favored carriers (first the Valiant-class workhorses, later the higher-performance Banshee-class).

The Siegfried does not attempt to reverse that shift. Instead it occupies a complementary niche: a heavily protected, gun-focused platform that can deliver sustained, dual-purpose heavy firepower while operating in company with carriers. Its upper-deck main battery keeps logistics and ammunition handling practical, while the engineered depression angles ensure the same guns remain effective against airships, surface targets, and Grimm. The modest air group and strong point defense exist to keep the ship alive long enough for its batteries to matter, not to replace a Valiant's air wing.

Place in the Combined Valean Fleet

• Banshee-class: High-end, high-threat carrier for prestige and major power-projection missions.
• Valiant-class: Rugged workhorse carrier for sustained independent operations, forward presence, and flexible air-wing support.
• Siegfried-class: Heavy gun platform that provides the direct firepower the carriers prefer not to deliver themselves. Typically operates as the core of a heavy surface-action group or as a powerful escort and fire-support element attached to a Valiant or Banshee battlegroup.

In prolonged anti-Grimm campaigns the Siegfried's heavy batteries and ability to loiter under fire make it especially valuable. In peer scenarios it forces enemy airships to respect the threat of guided heavy shells while Vale's own carriers generate the bulk of the air effort.

Commissioned Ships

• VSS Siegfried (lead ship)
• VSS Beowulf
• VSS Orpheus
• VSS Cú Chulainn
• VSS Fionn
• VSS Lugh
• VSS Aeneas
• VSS Horatio
• VSS Romulus

The class is built in smaller numbers than the Valiant and is never intended to replace carrier aviation. It exists because heavy, dual-purpose guns remain one of the most efficient ways to kill large Grimm, punish enemy airships, and support forces on the surface — roles the carriers perform only at greater risk to their flight decks and air wings.

 

[AndrewJTalon]

The afternoon light through the dorm window was the soft gold that only came after classes had ended and the courtyard had emptied. Ruby sat cross-legged on the wide sill, boots kicked off, polishing the crescent of her rose pin with the edge of her cloak. Jaune leaned against the frame beside her, listening more than talking while she sketched out some half-formed idea for a new addon to Crescent Rose.

She gestured a little too widely.

The pin slipped from her fingers, flashed once in the sun, and vanished over the ledge.

"No—!"

They both lunged. Too late. The small silver rose tumbled end over end and snagged in the upper branches of the old oak that grew close against the tower wall, hanging there like a drop of red and silver against the green.

Ruby leaned out so far Jaune caught the back of her cloak on instinct. "I can reach it—"

"No you can't." He was already swinging one leg over the sill. "I've got longer arms. Just… hold the window open."

He climbed out carefully, boots finding the thick lower limbs, aura humming low under his skin the way it still sometimes surprised him. The tree swayed. Leaves brushed his face. The pin glittered just out of easy reach, caught in a fork of thinner branches.

"Almost—"

Wood cracked.

The branch under his right foot gave with a wet snap. Jaune dropped, hit two more limbs on the way down in a clumsy cascade of leaves and bark, and slammed into the grass hard enough to drive the air from his lungs.

Ruby was already moving. She vaulted the sill without hesitation, cloak flaring, and landed in a crouch a few feet away before scrambling over to him.

"Jaune—! Are you okay? Oh my gosh, that was so high, I shouldn't have let you—"

He pushed himself up on his elbows, wincing, then sat fully. Grass stains and a few scrapes, nothing more. The residual glow of his aura faded from his shoulders like steam.

"I'm fine." He managed a crooked smile and held up the pin, still clenched in his fist. "See? Come on, Aura protects me."

Ruby's worry melted into a bright, relieved laugh. She took the pin with both hands like it was something fragile and precious.

"Thank you. Really. You didn't have to do that."

She pinned it carefully back onto her cloak, the silver rose settling against the red fabric as if it had never left. Jaune watched the small, practiced motion.

"It's pretty," he said quietly. "Who gave it to you?"

Ruby's fingers lingered on the metal for a second longer than necessary.

"My mom." Her voice softened the way it always did when the subject came near. "She died when I was really little. On a Hunter mission. But she left me this." A small, almost shy smile. "I wear it every day."

Jaune went still.

"I get it..." He smiles. "She'd be proud of you."

Ruby flushed. Her eyes went down to the grass, then back to Jaune.

"I... You know, everyone says that but..." She shrugged. "I guess I don't know if it, you know... Means."

Jaune smiled softly.

"I get it," he said. "I mean, I'm trying to figure that out too."

Ruby giggled.

"Yeah, well... I guess we could figure it out together?"

Jaune beamed.

"I'd like that..."

 

[AndrewJTalon]

Weiss Schnee was not, by any stretch of the imagination, a "graveyard concert" kind of girl.

Yet here she was, bundled in a thick white coat against the chill Vale night, trudging through wrought-iron gates into the old municipal cemetery with the rest of the circus. Jaune's cousin Alice Arc—self-proclaimed necromancer, perpetual goth queen, and apparently a walking ray of undead sunshine—had sent a handwritten invitation on black parchment sealed with a wax skull. Weiss had meant to politely decline. Somehow "sure, sounds fun" had come out instead.

And because Weiss Schnee did nothing halfway, she'd dragged everyone else along. "Cultural experience," she'd declared primly. Jaune hadn't stood a chance.

Alice spotted them the moment they crested the hill and let out a squeal that could wake the dead—literally. She sprinted over in a swirl of black lace and silver chains, pale skin luminous under the moonlight, violet-streaked hair flying.

"Jaune! Weiss! You came!" She tackled Jaune in a hug fierce enough to rattle his teeth, then spun to Weiss with shining crimson eyes. "And you brought everyone! I'm so happy I could raise an entire battalion!"

Jaune laughed, ruffling her hair. "Easy, Alice. We're here for the music, not the apocalypse."

Behind Alice, her infamous "Skelebros" were already causing chaos. One skeleton was trying to flirt with a translucent female spirit (unsuccessfully—she kept phasing through his ribcage). Another had swapped its femur with a different skeleton and was now limping in circles yelling "Who stole my leg bone?!" A third was juggling its own skull while humming off-key.

Yang took one look and grinned like a wolf. "Heh. Looks like these guys really know how to rattle a crowd."

Blake groaned. "Yang, no."

"What? They're clearly dying for attention."

"Yang, stop."

"Fine, fine. But somebody's gotta bone up on their puns around here."

Alice beamed at Yang. "I like you already! I'm Alice Arc, resident creepy cousin. And you are…?"

"Yang Xiao Long," she said, slinging an arm around Jaune's shoulders. "Jaune's fiancée."

Blake's ears flattened. "Excuse me?"

Pyrrha's polite smile went razor-sharp. "It's… her turn to pretend today."

Alice's eyes went heart-shaped. "Another fiancée?! Jaune, you absolute legend! Welcome to the family, Yang!"

Jaune looked like he wanted the ground to swallow him. A nearby skeleton offered him a shovel. He declined.

They settled on a grassy knoll overlooking a semicircle of ancient graves arranged like an orchestra pit before a grand marble crypt. A handful of locals—gravediggers in overalls, goths in full regalia, and assorted weirdos—lounged on blankets with picnic baskets. The Skelebros circulated with trays of glowing green punch that smelled suspiciously like lime and grave dust.

Weiss accepted a cup with extreme caution. "Alice… what kind of concert is this, exactly?"

Alice clasped her hands, sighing dreamily. "It's Leopold. He has a Necromancy Semblance too—but his works through music. When he conducts, the spirits can't help but answer. It's the most beautiful thing you'll ever hear."

On cue, the iron gates of the crypt burst open with a theatrical BOOM of violet Aura. Out strode Leopold: tall, tanned, absurdly muscular, dressed like an 18th-century maestro in tails and breeches. A fluffy pink wig sat atop his head. Round black sunglasses hid his eyes. A jagged sewn scar crossed his face like a lightning bolt.

He raised his baton with flamboyant grace.

Every grave in the pit flared with soft blue light. Ethereal spirits rose—men and women in period dress, translucent and luminous. Violins materialized in their hands, cellos, violas, a spectral harpsichord, even a ghostly bass drum. They tuned with eerie harmony.

Leopold flashed a dazzling grin. The baton slashed down.

The opening chords of Mystery Skulls' "Magic" exploded into the night—funky, soulful, alive. The spirits played with impossible passion, notes soaring over the graveyard like living things. Colored Aura sparks danced in the air like fireflies.

Weiss's breath caught. It was ridiculous. It was glorious.

Yang whooped, yanking Jaune to his feet. "C'mon, blondie! Dance with your fiancée!"

Jaune flushed but let her pull him into the open space below the knoll. Yang spun him with enthusiastic flair, blonde hair flying. He laughed—actually laughed—and matched her step for step.

Alice clutched Weiss's arm, eyes shining. "Isn't it perfect?"

Weiss couldn't answer. She was too busy watching the impossible orchestra, the swirling lights, the joy on everyone's faces. Ruby was already dragging a protesting-but-smiling Ren into the fray. Nora followed, hammering an air drum solo that somehow synced perfectly with the ghostly percussion.

Halfway through the song, a massive wolf-like Grimm—some kind of Alpha Beowolf variant—burst from the treeline, drawn by the noise and Aura flare. It roared, charging the crowd.

Panic rippled—

Leopold didn't even pause. He flicked his baton. A wave of pure violet musical Aura surged from the spirits, coalescing into a blinding crescendo. The Grimm disintegrated mid-leap, dissolving into black petals that scattered on the wind.

The crowd erupted in wild applause. Leopold bowed theatrically, pink wig bouncing.

The concert continued—song after song, each more magical than the last. Nora finally succeeded in dragging Ren into a clumsy but enthusiastic dance. Even Blake swayed in place, tail flicking to the beat.

When the final note faded and the spirits dissolved into grateful sparkles, everyone collapsed onto the grass in exhausted, happy heaps—except Weiss and Alice.

Alice practically floated toward the crypt. "Come on! I have to tell Leopold how incredible that was!"

Leopold leaned against his baton like a rock star cooling down, accepting praise with genuine humility. When he spotted Alice, his scarred face lit up.

"Little Arc! You brought friends!" His voice was deep, warm, with a faint Mistrali accent.

Alice immediately turned into a blushing, stammering mess. "I—uh—your performance was—um—really good—"

Weiss stepped forward smoothly. "What she means to say is that it was transcendent. And Alice here is extraordinarily gifted with percussion—her skeletal ensemble has impeccable timing. Perhaps a collaboration?"

Leopold's sunglasses glinted. "Is that so?" He turned to Alice, gentle. "Tell me about your style, little maestro."

Alice's words tumbled out in a rush—talking rhythms, bone xylophones, undead marimbas. Her hands moved like she was conducting her own invisible orchestra. Every few sentences she shot Weiss a grateful, glowing smile.

Weiss smiled back—small, genuine, warm.

Alice leaned in as Weiss turned to leave. "Thank you," she whispered. "I always freeze up around him."

"Anytime," Weiss whispered back. "You deserve to shine too."

She rejoined the group on the knoll. Most were sprawled out staring at the stars, riding the post-concert high. Jaune sat a little apart, gazing at the crypt with a soft smile.

Weiss settled beside him. "I… enjoyed this. Very much."

Jaune glanced at her, surprised. "Yeah?"

She nodded. "Your cousin is wonderful. I'm glad we came. I'm glad I've… made friends with her."

Jaune's expression softened. "Alice is one of the weirdest Arcs—and that's saying something—but she's got the biggest heart. Always had. Even when we were kids and the other cousins were scared of her skeletons, I thought she was the coolest."

Weiss looked at him for a long moment—moonlight silvering his hair, that earnest openness in his eyes. Then, without overthinking it, she leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek.

"Thank you for bringing her into my life," she murmured.

Jaune froze, face turning scarlet.

Weiss stood quickly, smoothing her coat, and walked away with as much dignity as she could muster.

Behind her, four sets of eyes—silver, gold, green, and lilac—glared absolute murder in her direction.

Ruby cracked her knuckles. "Okay. New rule. No more cheek kisses without a schedule."

Blake's ears flattened angrily. "Seconded."

Yang grinned dangerously. "Motion carries."

Pyrrha's smile could have frozen hell. "We'll discuss rotations later."

From the crypt, Alice's delighted laughter rang out as Leopold offered her a private lesson next week.

And under the watchful stars, the graveyard felt a little less cold.

- - -

Yes, it's Leopold from the Necropera project that… Never really progressed, sadly. But I thought him meeting Alice, our favorite necromancer, would be fun.


View: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-TqfBEX6QtE&list=RD-TqfBEX6QtE&start_radio=1

 

[AndrewJTalon]

RWBY and JNPR piled into the latter's common room after practice, still buzzing with the usual post-training energy.

"Did you like our new combo, Ruby?" Nora grinned, "Pyrrha and I call it 'Railgun!'"

"It was so awesome!" Ruby gushed, "Ooh! I can't wait to make an actual rail gun!"

"You aren't going to use that attack in the tournament, are you Jaune?" Weiss asked, sounding concerned. Jaune grinned.

"Probably not against you guys."

"We'd see it coming from a mile away," Yang laughed.

"Maybe," Jaune smirked a little, looking over at Ren. "Anyway, let's-URK!"

A short, angry dark haired man grabbed Jaune by the throat with his right hand while his left sprouted gleaming metallic claws with a sharp snikt. "Hand over what you owe, Runt," he growled, "or I'll turn you into a shishkabob."

Weapons snapped up in an instant. Pyrrha leveled her spear, voice cold and fierce. "Let him go, or I'll rip every piece of metal from your body and use it to tear you apart."

Yang's gauntlets flared as she stepped forward. "And then I'll beat you to a pulp."

Nora's grin stretched wide and manic, hammer already humming with pink lightning. "And I'll do even worse!"

Jaune just laughed. "Uncle Logan, the whiskey's in the cabinet. I'll get it for you."

Logan paused, then gave a short nod and released Jaune's throat, the claws retracting with another metallic sound.

Jaune turned to his friends, rubbing his neck. "Guys, this is just my uncle Logan. He does this kind of thing all the time."

"Attempted murder?" Weiss gasped, glaring at Logan. The short man smirked.

"Keeps the runt on his toes."

Ren frowned.

Ruby's eyes went wide. "My uncle doesn't do stuff like that!"

Yang lowered her fists a fraction. "Qrow did almost burn the house down once."

As Jaune moved to fetch the bottle, Ruby protested, "That's different!"

Logan accepted the whiskey with a grunt. "Thanks, Runt."

Jaune grinned. "You're welcome. Is Uncle Remy here too?"

Right on cue, a tall, handsome stranger with coiffed red hair and striking red eyes set against black sclera stepped into the room, idly shuffling a deck of cards. A grin spread across his face, and every woman present felt her cheeks flush despite herself.

"Jaune! Well, ain't you just shootin' up like a weed! Give Gambit a hug!"

Jaune stepped forward happily and wrapped him in a warm embrace. Gambit chuckled and hugged him back just as easily.

The group eventually settled onto the couches and chairs, the initial chaos giving way to wary curiosity as Logan dropped into the sturdiest seat like he owned it and Gambit sprawled with lazy grace, still toying with his cards.

Gambit leaned forward, accent thick and warm. "Our Hunter group, we work wit' Radian's militia, y'know? Became good friends wit' yo' papa, Jaune. Nick, he one of de best men we ever met out dere in de field."

Logan took another pull from the bottle and grunted. "Nick's the dumbest ox I ever met. So friendly. So cheerful."

Gambit laughed softly, translating with a theatrical wave of one hand. "What he mean is, he's a solid man, de best friend we ever had, mon ami. Logan just don't know how to say nice things without soundin' like he's complainin'."

Logan grunted again, but the corner of his mouth twitched.

Jaune, perched on the arm of the couch between Pyrrha and Ruby, couldn't help himself. "So… is the entire X-Men Hunter Group coming, or just you two?"

Ruby exploded like a firework. "The X-Men Hunter Group?! The actual X-Men?! Like, with the claws and the cards and the—oh my gosh, that's so cool! Are they all coming? Is there gonna be a big team-up? Can I meet them?!"

Logan's low growl rumbled through the room like distant thunder. Ruby flushed scarlet and clapped both hands over her mouth. "S-sorry! I didn't mean to— I just— sorry!"

Pyrrha's eyes sparkled with genuine excitement, her earlier tension easing into something brighter. "It is very exciting. Especially after the famous Magneto joined your ranks. The way he turned the tide in that last major operation—"

Logan growled again, deeper this time. Gambit's ever-present grin tightened into something closer to a scowl, his cards flicking faster between his fingers.

Jaune rubbed the back of his neck, trying to smooth things over. "Magneto's pretty awesome… once he got over his whole 'destroy mankind' phase."

Weiss stared at him like he'd grown a second head. "Is he a Faunus?"

Jaune nodded. "Yeah. But he used to want everyone with Semblances to rule over those without. Real extreme stuff."

Blake nodded slowly, ears twitching beneath her bow. "He was too extreme even for the White Fang. Some of the old guard still talk about him like a cautionary tale."

Weiss looked horrified, one hand pressed to her chest. Jaune rushed to add, "He's better now! Really! He's on our side these days. Mostly."

Gambit let the cards settle with a soft shff and leaned back, eyes gleaming with mischief. "Onto more important matters, though. How many fiancés does Jaune actually have, anyway? Why he spare none of dat talent for Gambit, eh? A man could use a little help in de romance department."

Logan smirked around the mouth of the bottle. "One wife's usually enough for a smart man. More than that and you're just askin' for trouble."

Jaune went rigid, face draining of color before flooding with mortified red. "I— it's not— they're not— it's a misunderstanding! A really big, ongoing, everyone-keeps-joking-about-it misunderstanding!"

Blake spoke up first, perfectly deadpan. "He's actually my fiancé."

Yang's grin turned feral as she slung an arm around Jaune's shoulders. "I called him first, though. Dibs."

Ruby bounced in her seat, still pink from her earlier outburst but undeterred. "Arturia likes me best! She said so!"

Pyrrha's voice was calm but firm, one hand resting lightly on Jaune's knee. "I'm the true fiancé. We've been partners since day one."

Jaune buried his face in his hands, voice muffled and desperate. "Guys, please, it's not like that— they're all just— it started as a joke and then everyone kept adding to it and now even my family thinks— I don't even know how many fiancés I supposedly have anymore!"

Logan and Gambit roared with laughter, the sound filling the common room like thunder and warm rain. Logan slapped his knee while Gambit wiped a fake tear from the corner of one eye, cards scattering across the table in his mirth.

"Mon dieu, Jaune," Gambit wheezed between chuckles, accent thick as molasses, "you in way over yo' head, mon ami. But Gambit approve. Dis gon' be one hell of a festival."

 

[zMADLAXz]

Which of the two fits Jaune better?

Click to shrink...

Neither to be honest. Cause he is not an op self insert. Nor is he the OP self insert meant to downplay the other OP self insert.

I think Sir Gareth fits him the best though.

Or wait. Sir Percival even fits him.

Sir Perceval: Perceval comes from humble origins. In his younger years, he was sheltered, and he can be a bit naive.

Anyway now to make something Inflamatroy. *wink wink nudge nudge*

---

We asked the resident Beacon students and Huntsman trainees about their favortie Warhammer faction or if it is space marines then their favorite Chapters.

Ms. Schnee please tell us.

Weiss: "Ah, I am quite fond of the Adepta Sororitas. Using Faith and Bravery to stand up for an Ideal."

In her mind: "Plus also they take care of those filthy muties"

---

Ms. Rose what about your favorite faction?

Ruby: Salamanders! I love how they make their own weapons and so much fire and how they stand for Vukan's love and bravery!

In her mind: "I tell you hwaht- *spits* those Eldar they are not natural, Gotta take an honest fire and settle em like true red blooded regular people

---

Ms Belladonna, which faction do you favor.

Blake: Hmm, I am not into the lore and gameplay of Warhammer that much but I have found myself drawn towards the upfront nature of the Drukhari. The aesthetic is quite out there, but also quite fitting.

In her mind: =][= LOYAL IMPERIAL CITIZEN, THE FOLLOWING FOOTAGE HAS BEEN CONFISCATED BY THE HOLY INQUISITION =][=

---

Ms Nikos, what would be your favorite faction?

Pyrrha: oh! I find the Custodes to be my pace. The clash between their absolute loyalty and how the rest of the world around them is quite enjoyable.

In her mind: "Jaune why don't you sit naked on this throne while I oil myself up and perform for you?

Spoiler

I don't care about the gender of the Custodes, if they aren't oiling themselves in their undergarments and not performing for the emperor, they aren't real Custodes

---

Ms Valkyrie what about your pref–
OH MY GOD WHAT IS SHE!

Nora in blue war paint and wielding Magnhild: FENRYS HJØLDA!

Smashes through another wall drunk on Cranberry Juice.

---

Oh! Mr. Arc and Ms. Xiao-Long, it seems we will have to ask this question at the same time to you both.

Yang : Imperial Fists!

Jaune : Iron Warriors!

Everything and Everybody stop, as the two slowly turn their necks towards each other, the world seems to have held its breathe.

There is no change their serene expressions.

Yang: Say Vomit Boy, why don't we discuss about each other's favorite chapters outside! (a wide smile on her face with eyes close as the knuckles on Ember Cecilia groan)

Jaune: I would love to! (The leather of his combat gloves creaks as he clenches his fist around Corcea Mors's sheath, as he return her smile and follows her outside)

Well dear viewers that's all the time we have today!

Distant yelling and explosions.

---

Ren is left alone as the rest of the mess hall moves outside to behold the spectacle of mayhem and the not so safe for work conclusion of the mayhem between the two blondes that happens in their dorm rooms.

Ren takes a sip of his tea and calmly puts the cup down: Courage and Honor.